An 11-0 start crumbled, revealing a familiar script. Did the Aggies miss their chance to escape their own shadow?
Texas A&M spent most of 2025 acting like it finally found the cheat code. Win early, win often, and let the rest of the SEC fight over scraps.
The Aggies ripped off an 11-0 start, climbed into the top tier of the College Football Playoff conversation, and marched toward Thanksgiving week with the kind of swagger College Station usually only borrows, never owns.
Then Austin happened.
The Lone Star Showdown didn't just hand A&M its first loss; it yanked the mask off the entire season. One night, one rival, and suddenly the hottest team in America looked like a program that still flinches when the spotlight turns into a heat lamp.
The Aggies didn't just lose to the Longhorns; they spiraled into the postseason like a team that knew exactly what was coming next.
They still made the College Football Playoff - A&M's first appearance. Hosted at Kyle Field, it was the kind of milestone that should live in the trophy case forever.
But if you watched that Miami game, you know why nobody's rushing to frame it. The offense sputtered, the moment got heavy, and the Aggies' dream season ended with a thud and a two-game losing streak that hit harder than the record will ever show.
ESPN's Paul Finebaum basically said the quiet part out loud:
"I'll spare you the preamble that everybody already knows, I mean, on paper, it was a really good year, and I think he's done a phenomenal job lifting that program up," Finebaum said on McElroy and Cubelic. "But the way it ended reminded people a lot of just the fact that Texas A&M can't seem to get out of its own shadow sometimes, and it couldn’t have gone any worse... A&M is going to walk out of the season feeling like they left a lot on the table."
And that's the real gut punch because he's not wrong.
You can celebrate year two under Mike Elko, you can point to 11 wins (their first since 2012), you can brag about being relevant in December. But the emotional residue of 2025 isn't "breakthrough." It's "here we go again."
Call it Battered Aggie Syndrome if you want.
Or call it pattern recognition. When you're 11-0 with everything in front of you, and you finish by losing to your rival and then getting bounced at home in the College Football Playoff, it doesn't feel like progress. It feels like the same old script, just printed on nicer paper.
A&M can absolutely build on this. But until the Aggies close a season like a contender instead of collapsing like a cautionary tale, 11 wins will keep feeling suspiciously like a warning label for 2026.