College athletics is currently being held together by lawsuits, conference commissioners, television executives, transfer portal paperwork and what I can only assume is a giant roll of duct tape.

Every morning there seems to be another rule change.

Players are eligible. Then they aren’t. Then a judge says they are. Then the SEC holds a meeting. Then LSU finds a loophole. Then everyone closes the loophole because LSU found it.

So with everything happening in college athletics right now, maybe it’s time to do something revolutionary.

Have some fun.

And now that sponsorship patches are coming to college football jerseys, Louisiana has the perfect opportunity. If we’re going to turn uniforms into billboards anyway, let’s not waste this on some boring corporate logo nobody recognizes.

Let’s get weird.

Really weird.

The Best Stop

This still feels like the obvious choice. Put THE BEST STOP right on the front of the jersey.

Then every time Louisiana stuffs somebody on 4th-and-1, the announcer can simply say: “Looks like they made... The Best Stop.”

I’ll see myself out.

Actually, no I won’t.

I’m staying.

Billy’s Boudin

This would immediately create the most dangerous rivalry in Acadiana.Best Stop on one jersey. Billy’s on another.

At that point, the football game almost becomes secondary.

People would be arguing about the patches in the parking lot three hours before kickoff. Forget NIL collectives. We’d have boudin collectives.

Kartchner’s

Because if we’re going to start the Boudin Wars, we might as well finish them Put Kartchner’s on the helmet. Billy’s on the chest. Best Stop on the sleeve.

Congratulations.

We have now created the first edible uniform in college football.

Tony Chachere’s

This one almost makes too much sense. Put Tony’s on the defensive line jerseys. Every sack gets called “a little extra seasoning.”

Every forced fumble? “Too much seasoning.”

Every targeting penalty? Okay, maybe we retire the bit there.

TABASCO

Imagine a tiny TABASCO bottle logo on the uniform.

Clean. Recognizable. Louisiana.

And every single television broadcast would be legally required to say the Ragin’ Cajuns are “bringing the heat.” That joke would become unbearable by Week 3. Which means college football television executives would absolutely love it.

Popeyes

Now we’re talking.

Put Popeyes on Louisiana’s jersey and suddenly every national broadcast has to spend four minutes explaining that Popeyes actually started in Louisiana.

The recruiting pitch writes itself. “Come play for the Cajuns. Free spicy chicken.”

Five-star offensive linemen would be lining up at the door.

Raising Cane’s

Yes, I know. Baton Rouge. LSU ties. Whatever.

That makes it even funnier.

Imagine LSU running onto the field with some giant Fortune 500 sponsor on its jersey while Louisiana quietly trots out wearing a Cane’s patch.

Somewhere in Baton Rouge, message boards would spontaneously combust.

Worth it.

Waffle House

No Louisiana connection necessary. I just want this. A little yellow Waffle House patch on the uniform during an 11 p.m. triple overtime road game in Ruston.

That feels like Sun Belt football.

And if the since the game went ito overtime, the players receive hash browns.

Scattered. Smothered. All the way.

Buc-ee’s

Forget a jersey patch. Put the beaver on the helmet. Instant recruiting advantage.

Every road trip now includes clean bathrooms and Beaver Nuggets. Nick Saban never had that kind of weapon.

Community Coffee

This one actually fits. South Louisiana brand. Recognizable. And extremely useful for those ridiculous 11 a.m. kickoffs.

Players could come out of the tunnel holding little cups. The student section gets complimentary dark roast.

Suddenly attendance problems are solved. You’re welcome, athletic department.

Rouses

Put ROUSES across the sleeve and have an actual grocery cart parked beside the turnover belt.

Interception? Player runs over and grabs a rotisserie chicken.

Fumble recovery? King cake.

Pick-six? Entire seafood platter.

I have no idea what any of this means, but I know I’d watch.

Blue Runner

This is where we fully embrace the bit. A Blue Runner red beans patch. Not because it makes financial sense. Not because it would revolutionize NIL.

Because it would make some Big Ten fan watching from Wisconsin ask: “What is Blue Runner?”

And that is called marketing.

The Cajundome

Can a building sponsor a jersey? I don’t care.

Put the Cajundome logo on there. Then sell naming rights to the patch itself.

The Official Jersey Patch Presented By The Cajundome Presented By Someone Else.

That’s basically how college athletics works now anyway.

Prejean’s

Imagine Louisiana wearing Prejean’s on the jersey during a nationally televised game. The broadcast crew starts talking about gumbo.

Next thing you know they’ve completely forgotten to discuss playoff expansion.

Everybody wins.

Don’s Specialty Meats

This one would make the uniform look dangerously Cajun.

DON’S.

BEST STOP.

BILLY’S.

At some point Louisiana’s jersey just becomes a map showing where to stop on I-10. And honestly? That might be the most useful college football uniform ever created.

Mike’s Car Wash

No deep reason. I just think it would be funny watching a quarterback dive into the end zone with UNLIMITED WASH CLUB on his chest.

Sometimes comedy doesn’t need layers.

Ragin’ Review

Obviously. Small patch. Maybe somewhere near the shoulder. Nothing ridiculous.

Just enough so that every time ESPN zooms in on the quarterback, somebody in Bristol has to acknowledge that we exist.

We’ll pay in exposure.

Which, based on the current college athletics economy, appears to be completely acceptable currency.

Wait... What About Waffle House AND Ragin’ Review?

Now we’re thinking. One sleeve gets Waffle House. One gets Ragin’ Review.

Best Stop on the chest.

Tony’s on the helmet.

Popeyes on the pants.

At that point Louisiana doesn’t have a football uniform. It has a South Louisiana starter pack.

And I would buy it immediately.

If We’re Doing This, Do It Our Way

That’s really the point.

College sports is becoming more corporate by the day. Television networks are driving conference decisions. Conferences are making rules. Judges are overturning rules. Congress is talking about rules.

LSU is apparently standing beside the rulebook with a Sharpie looking for blank spaces.

Everybody is taking themselves incredibly seriously.

So Louisiana should lean the other direction. Have some fun with it. Make the patch something fans actually enjoy seeing.

Make it local. Make it Cajun. Make it weird.

Because if we’re really headed toward a future where college football jerseys look like NASCAR uniforms, I don’t want some random insurance company on Louisiana’s chest.

I want boudin. I want seasoning. I want coffee. I want a Waffle House logo for absolutely no reason whatsoever.

And if we can somehow fit a tiny Ragin’ Review patch somewhere near the collar?

Well...

Now we’re finally fixing college athletics.