Listen here, I don’t care what the Bengals depth chart looks like right now, the biggest hit this fanbase took in 2025 wasn’t Ja’Marr’s drops in camp, it was Hooters ghosting the Ohio River.

That floating temple of wings and chaos sat on Riverboat Row for decades, fueling up fans before every kickoff. You knew the routine: grab a plate of Daytona-style, chase it with a schooner, talk yourself into the Bengals covering -3, then stumble right onto a Queen City Riverboat and ride across the water like a damn Roman emperor. Life was good.

Now? Poof. Gone. Yanked off the river like an old dock chair. Dismantled in Hebron. Another victim of corporate bankruptcy and whatever clown show is running Hooters into the ground. They didn’t just close restaurants, they nuked traditions.

Let’s talk fallout. Queen City Riverboats didn’t just lose a partner, they lost their whole game day economy. No Hooters paying the tab means no money to run three shuttles. So instead of a fleet, we’ve got one sad boat per Bengals game. Reds fans? Forget it. They shut that ferry down completely. Want to cross the river? Hope you’re a good swimmer, champ.

And prices? Fifteen bucks a head. Used to be ten. Inflation hits harder when your last wing stop before kickoff is now Applebee’s. You can’t tell me Newport wouldn’t rather see packed boats than empty docks, but nope, bankruptcy court’s got the land tied up like it’s Fort Knox.

Fans don’t care about “sub-leasing opportunities” or “municipal red tape.” We care about getting sauced, eating wings, and showing up at Paycor loud enough to rattle helmets.

So yeah, Bengals Nation lost more than a floating restaurant. We lost an artery to the game. We lost the buzz of hundreds of fans storming off a boat and into the jungle. And worst of all, we lost the last real excuse to eat Hooters wings without shame.

Pour one out, Cincy. Hooters is gone. The boats are cut. And if the Bengals don’t win 12 games this year, we might just burn that Purple People Bridge ourselves.

– Broadway UNC

College football gave us a Saturday with fists up, but the headline hit different: Lee Corso went 4-for-4 on his picks and did it with style. The Sunshine Scooter called the board clean, including being the only one to take Florida State over Alabama. That ain’t luck. That’s ball.

The 4-for-4 Ticket

• Florida State 31, Alabama 17
  Corso stood alone on FSU. Paid in full.
• Tennessee 45, Syracuse 26
  Vols took care of business.
• LSU 17, Clemson 10
  Corso was lone-wolf LSU here too. Right again.
• Ohio State 14, Texas 7
  Buckeyes in a grinder. Corso had it.

And he wasn’t done stirring the pot. He rolled forward picks for Sunday: Miami (FL) and South Carolina. A clean weekend is on the table.

The Poetry Of It

Users noticed the symmetry. One fan pointed out every school Corso coached at won that day: Indiana, Louisville, Northern Illinois, plus ties to Navy, Maryland, Florida State. Another noted a perfect full-circle bit: his first and last headgear picks were Ohio State. That’s storytelling the algorithm can’t script.

Quick Hit Nuggets

• A longtime stat head chimed in: Corso’s headgear picks hit around 66% over three decades. Laugh if you want, but picking the biggest games on the board and hitting two-thirds is nasty.
• Another user dropped a jewel: When Corso picked USC, they went 17-0 over the years. Trojan talisman energy.
• Folks joked it wasn’t predictions so much as manifestation. When a guy has been Saturday’s heartbeat for decades, you believe he can will a result.

Why This Landed So Hard

• Singular calls matter. Anyone can ride chalk. Corso stood alone on FSU and LSU versus powers. That’s conviction.
• Vibes vs. spreadsheets. Gamblers will tell you models matter. But gut, history, and pageantry still count in this sport. Corso’s craft was understanding the moment, not just the matchup.
• The send-off. With retirement at his back, the board went poetic. Fans from rival camps were openly rooting for the old man’s swan song to hit perfect.

The Fan Soundtrack

• “A poetic send off to a legend.”
• “I’m betting on Corso being more powerful than God this weekend.”
• “Be confident in life like Corso was in FSU over Bama.”
• “He spoke the outcomes into being.”

If He Goes Undefeated

If Miami and South Carolina cash, the final chapter writes itself: Perfect day, perfect weekend, perfect sign-off. Even the cynics are tipping caps. You don’t get many storybook endings in this sport. This one’s sitting on the tee.

UNC’s Final Word

Numbers pay the mortgage, but legends feed the soul. Corso reminded everybody what Saturdays are supposed to feel like: a little wild, a little sentimental, and just unpredictable enough to keep us glued. Four for four with two more on deck? Put the headgear in the rafters.

Corso called ball. College football answered.

You really can’t make this up. Before a single kickoff, Ohio State is already running trick plays — and not on the field. Nope, they went and banned Dave Portnoy from Big Noon Kickoff at The Shoe. Yeah, pizza-review Dave. Michigan’s loudest frat uncle. The man who thinks “one bite” means “six bites and a lecture.”

And honestly? It’s the funniest move of the offseason.

The Soft Wars Begin

Ohio State has been fighting the “soft” allegations for years now. Planting flags? Illegal. Noon kickoffs? Criminal. Now? They’re banning a pizza blogger. Congratulations — you’ve managed to make Michigan Twitter look like prophets.

The Shoe used to be a fortress. Now it’s a Charmin aisle at Walmart.

The Nacho Allegations

Let’s be real: nobody even knows the official reason. So allow me to speculate responsibly:

• He ate all the loaded nachos in the press box. Left boosters gnawing on dry chips like raccoons.
• Ryan Day saw him in the background standing on his tippy toes again and said “enough.”
• Or maybe the ban is just Ohio State’s version of load management: keep him out now so he’s fresh to troll them in November.

The Internet Meltdown

Reddit lit up like Michigan Stadium after a night game:

• “Pizza terrorist banned.”
• “THE Ohio Charmin University.”
• “And nothing of value was lost.”
• “Ban him everywhere.”

When Reddit, Twitter, and random uncles in SEC country are all on the same page? That’s a rare eclipse.

Dave’s Next Play

Here’s the kicker: banning him is literally the best thing you could do for him. He’s probably already outside The Shoe right now, eating a Papa John’s slice out of the box, filming a 47-minute rant titled “Ohio State Softest Program in America.” And it’ll get half a million views before halftime.

This is what he lives for. Dude’s like a troll vampire — every time you try to kill him, he gets stronger.

UNC’s Final Word

Only in college football do you wake up to headlines like this: “Pizza Blogger Banned From Stadium.” Not depth charts, not QB battles. Pizza.

The Buckeyes think they’re ending a distraction. Really? They just gave Dave Portnoy a Heisman moment in August.

Michigan-Ohio State is still months away, but the Soft Wars? They kicked off already. And Portnoy’s up 7–0 before the opening whistle.

The SEC finally sobered up and did it. Starting in 2026, the league is moving to a nine-game conference schedule. After decades of talking tough while playing Mercer in November, the conference presidents voted to actually earn those playoff bids.

Greg Sankey spun it the way only a commissioner can: “commitment to competition, preserving rivalries, blah blah blah.” Translation: ESPN cut a fatter check and the College Football Playoff committee said “enough with Charleston Southern.”

The New Rules of the Game

Here’s the deal:

• No divisions. Just one big standings free-for-all.
• Three annual opponents, so the “real” rivalries get locked in.
• Six rotating matchups so everyone eventually plays everyone.
• Every SEC team will face each other home-and-away in a four-year cycle.

And on top of that? Every team still has to schedule at least one legit Power opponent outside the league — ACC, Big Ten, Big 12, or Notre Dame.

So yes, Florida still has Florida State. Georgia still has Tech. South Carolina still has Clemson. But if you were dreaming of seeing Bama-Ohio State or Georgia-Clemson on the regular? Put that hope in a shoebox and light it on fire.

RIP Cupcake Week

The real funeral here isn’t divisions or scheduling models. It’s Cupcake Saturday. That sacred November weekend when Alabama played Western Carolina, Auburn played Samford, and Georgia let Charleston Southern pay their rent.

Those million-dollar buy games funded small athletic departments, new soccer fields, and maybe an espresso machine in the AD’s office. Now? Mercer’s athletic department is about to fire up a GoFundMe.

Quality Losses Incoming

This move isn’t about “competitive balance.” It’s about playoff math. The SEC needed to make sure a 9–3 Ole Miss still looks sexier than a 10–2 Penn State.

• Georgia loses to LSU? Quality loss. Still in.
• Alabama trips at Neyland? Quality loss. Still #3 on Tuesday night.
• A&M goes 8–4? Quality losses all over the board, baby.

Get ready for “quality loss” to be the new “it just means more.”

History Lesson

The SEC’s been playing eight conference games since 1992. Before that? Seven. Before that? Six. Before that? “Whatever the hell we felt like.” The point is, they’ve been padding the schedule forever.

Now? No more hiding. No more Mercer Week. No more excuses.

Final Word from UNC

So here we are. The SEC finally added a ninth game, not because it was the right thing to do, but because ESPN and the CFP said, “play another one or stop crying.”

Fans will call it “big boy football.” Coaches will call it “a grind.” And Vanderbilt will call it “a war crime.”

This isn’t about tradition. This isn’t about fairness. It’s about TV money, playoff seeding, and one more reason for SEC fans to yell “quality losses” at Big Ten Twitter.

Nine games. No Mercer. No Samford. No Citadel. Just more rivalries, more excuses, and more Ole Miss fans explaining why their 7–5 deserves a playoff spot.