How Not to Play College Football '25

Aug 29, 2024

Like so many elder millennials, I grew up on the original run of NCAA Football games.

I was heartbroken when the original series ended and ecstatic when the new one hit this summer. The release pushed me to finally purchase a Playstation 5, including two extra controllers (at like $80 each!) for my two children because I did not want them getting chocolate, Dorito dust, or random hand slime on mine.

With the release of College Football ‘25, I was ready to fire up the old girl, pull out my tricks, and show these Gen Z morons what’s up.

And then a funny thing happened. I started playing after several games and came to the sobering conclusion: I fucking suck.

Now, suck is a relative term. I’m not completely useless but the muscle memory of so many hours playing the original versions in dorm rooms and early single-man-with-no-money apartments did not translate. Apparently, a lot has changed in 11 years.

So, while the Internet has provided gamers with endless tips on how to get better at College Football ’25, I’m here to do the opposite. I will share what I’m doing, so you can avoid it. By not following my lead, you’ll likely become awesome.

Let’s look at my gameplay so you can avoid it.

Drop back a ridiculous amount: Apparently, my famed 17-step quarterback drop no longer works.

This game wants you to stay in the pocket, read defenses, and make smart decisions. I don’t want to do that.

I prefer to drop back 40 yards, run around like a dickhead, and throw a missile to a wide-open receiver across the field once the play breaks down.

You may laugh, but that’s how we played on the early versions of Madden. Pass blocking was nonexistent. Players just bounced into each other, so to avoid sacks, we kept running backward until we threw a 60-yard laser off our quarterback’s back foot into triple coverage for a touchdown. THAT was real football.

Every pass that flies over 12 yards gets intercepted. During my first season at Temple, my beloved alma mater, my starting quarterback, threw 30 interceptions. 30! That’s Blake Bortles-level shit.

Not surprisingly, he transferred after the season with PTSD.

Is it me, or does the computer’s secondary have telepathic powers? About once a game, I’ll start feeling cocky. I’ll complete a few decent passes. Build up a little lead. I’ll try something new in the playbook that goes deep. I’ll even try to “read” the defense pre-snap. I’ll throw to what I know is a wide-open receiver, only for six defenders to magically teleport in front of the ball.

Here’s a picture of the CPU’s cornerbacks pre-snap.

I have no idea how to run an RPO. When did they invent this garbage?

So, I can run or pass, depending on what the defense does? That’s too much responsibility.

You can all but guarantee I’ll make the wrong read every time. Even when the play works, I get nervous throwing those wide receiver bubble screens.

I ran a successful RPO in the red zone the other night, quickly hitting an open receiver in the flat for an easy touchdown. Let me tell you: I felt like Kyle Shannahan.

That was the rare exception. Usually, RPOs end with me either running into the line for -3 yards or giving the opposing corner the easiest pick-six of his life.

My entire playbook is in the shotgun and I hate it. This is not something I do wrong, per se, but more about my inability to adapt to modern football.

I grew up in a simpler time when the offensive strategy was:

· 1^st down: Hand ball to running back (go left)

· 2^nd down: Hand ball to running back (go right)

· 3^rd down: Hand ball to running back (go left again) or;

· 3^rd down: Fake handing ball to running back, throw three yards to the tight end.

· 4^th down: Punt, even when in field goal range.

If this sounds basic, remember that this is the video game playbook I grew up running.

The shotgun formation is for third and insanely long. When I was a kid, the shotgun was only for special occasions, like 3^rd and 46. “Oh shit, we’re in shotgun – this just got serious.”

Now, it is every play. I know I can run systems other than the Temple spread, but I somehow did worse when I returned to my Power-I roots. I can get yards with the spread; it just makes me hate myself.

I’m tempted to run the Wing T at Army and go 4-7 so I can still look myself in the mirror.

I can no longer just rush the quarterback. On the old versions of the game, I liked to use a defensive tackle and get seven sacks per game. This strategy no longer works, a lesson I learned the hard way after giving up 500 yards to the quarterback of a 1-6 East Carolina team.

I’ve started playing middle linebacker as the Internet suggested. While I’ve gotten better results, I’m still terrible at defense. The only time I have success is when I sniff out a running play. Most of the time I go into pass coverage and run in circles, hoping to confuse the quarterback with my stupidity until a defensive end brings him down. This works about 10% of the time.

I don’t care that much about recruiting. Want to come to my school? Fine, but I’m not rolling out the red carpet. If you’d rather go to Akron, then the hell with you.

I won’t sit there and try to sway some 3-star digital free safety to play for my team.

Let’s move this along. I need to get back to game action and throw more interceptions.

I’ve only made four field goals. Kicking is impossible.

David Stegon is the publisher of Four Verts.