I've come to the conclusion that being a Louisiana Ragin' Cajuns football fan should probably come with some sort of warning label.

WARNING: Supporting this team may cause sudden mood swings, irrational optimism, premature declarations of disaster, and an overwhelming desire to celebrate with people you were arguing with 45 minutes earlier.

And if you need proof, look no further than Thursday night's 42-21 victory over ULM.

Or, better yet, look at our group chat.

Good Lord, our group chat.

I've been a Cajuns fan long enough to know that emotional stability and Louisiana football don't exactly go hand in hand. But this season has taken that relationship to a whole new level. We're not just living game to game anymore. We're living quarter to quarter, drive to drive, and sometimes play to play.

One minute, we're ready to crown somebody Coach of the Year. The next, we're wondering if the entire athletic department needs to be investigated by Congress.

And somehow, both emotions seem completely reasonable at the time.

The Group Chat That Nearly Didn't Survive Monroe

Thursday night's game was a perfect example of what I'm talking about.

ULM took its opening possession and marched 73 yards in 15 plays, chewing up more than eight minutes of clock before punching it into the end zone.

7-0, Warhawks.

Now, for most normal people, that's called an opening touchdown.

For certain members of our group chat, it was apparently the beginning of the apocalypse.

The declarations of impending doom started arriving before the extra point had even finished sailing through the uprights. There were people already convinced we were going to lose. The defense was terrible. The game plan was terrible. Everything was terrible.

Mind you, we were roughly eight minutes into a 60-minute football game.

Louisiana answered to tie things at seven, and you'd think that might have calmed everyone down.

You'd be wrong.

Because when ULM went back ahead 14-7, the group chat turned into a combination of a hostage negotiation, a congressional hearing, and a dysfunctional family Thanksgiving.

Some people were furious with the team. Others were furious with the people who were furious with the team. And then there were those who became so disgusted with the negativity that they actually left the group chat altogether.

That's right.

We had people abandoning ship in a seven-point football game.

Not the team. Not the season.

The GROUP CHAT.

At one point, I wasn't sure if we were going to need a halftime adjustment from Michael Desormeaux or a professional mediator.

And here's the funniest part.

By the time the game ended, everybody was celebrating. The same folks who were preparing the funeral arrangements for the 2026 season were suddenly talking about how impressive this team looked.

All was forgiven.

The arguments? Forgotten.

The dramatic exits? Ancient history.

The declarations that we'd already lost? Apparently never happened.

We were one big, happy, dysfunctional Cajun family again.

Until next Saturday, of course.

Two Halves, Two Completely Different Football Teams

The irony is that the Cajuns themselves seemed to be experiencing the same emotional roller coaster we were.

The first half against ULM was, to put it politely, less than inspiring.

Louisiana found itself trailing twice against a Warhawks team that entered the night with just two victories. ULM was moving the football, controlling the clock, and generally making life a whole lot more difficult than anybody wearing red wanted it to be.

Yes, the Cajuns managed to tie the game at 14 before halftime thanks to KeDarius Wade's touchdown run. But let's not pretend the first 30 minutes had anybody feeling particularly comfortable.

Then the second half started.

And apparently somebody remembered we were supposed to be the better football team.

Micah Johnson scooped up a ULM fumble and returned it 18 yards for a touchdown, giving Louisiana its first lead of the night.

Then JJ Garner started doing JJ Garner things.

A 19-yard touchdown run.

An 18-yard touchdown run.

Suddenly, a game that had members of our group chat contemplating a complete separation from Cajuns athletics had turned into a three-touchdown advantage.

Louisiana scored 28 unanswered points after trailing 14-7, and what had looked like a potential disaster became a comfortable 42-21 victory.

Garner finished with 104 rushing yards and two touchdowns. Steven Blanco added 113 yards and a score of his own. The Cajuns piled up 274 yards on the ground, while the defense forced three turnovers and Jake St. Andre continued his impressive season with 14 tackles.

Was it perfect? Absolutely not. ULM still managed 372 yards of offense, including 260 on the ground.

But that second half?

That's a football team I can get excited about.

Which, naturally, leads us to the next problem.

We Have Absolutely No Idea What We Want

I've spent a good portion of this season writing about the frustrations surrounding Louisiana football.

The inconsistency. The missed opportunities. The moments when it felt like this program had taken a step backward from the standard we've come to expect.

And I stand by those criticisms.

But somewhere along the way, this team has managed to put itself in a position that probably seemed pretty unlikely when we were questioning everything earlier in the year.

The Cajuns are now 7-3.

Seven wins. Three losses.

And with Coastal Carolina coming to Lafayette next Saturday and a trip to Georgia State still remaining, I'm about to say something that would've sounded absolutely ridiculous to me at certain points this season.

I want nine regular-season wins.

There. I said it.

Not eight.

Nine.

And before somebody starts accusing me of moving the goalposts, let me save you the trouble.

Of course I'm moving the goalposts.

I'm a fan.

That's what we do.

Earlier this season, there were moments when simply getting things back on track felt like a reasonable goal. Then we started winning games, and suddenly my expectations started creeping upward again.

First, it was just get bowl eligible.

Then it was finish with a winning record.

Now?

Screw it. Win the next two.

I want to beat Coastal Carolina. I want to go to Atlanta and beat Georgia State. I want this team to finish the regular season 9-3 and give us something to feel genuinely good about heading into December.

And yes, I realize the irony of somebody who's spent much of the season demanding more from this program suddenly getting excited about the possibility of nine wins.

But that's exactly the point.

I don't want us to become satisfied with simply being bowl eligible. I've written about that before, and my feelings haven't changed. I want Louisiana competing for conference championships and building a program that expects to be among the best in the Sun Belt every single year.

But I'm also perfectly capable of recognizing when a team has fought through adversity and put itself in position to finish strong.

Those two things aren't mutually exclusive.

At least, that's what I'm telling myself today.

Ask me again if we're trailing Coastal Carolina 7-0 in the first quarter.

The Beautiful Insanity of Being a Fan

Maybe that's what makes college football so much fun.

Or so miserable.

Depending on which quarter you're watching.

We spend all week analyzing matchups, looking at statistics, convincing ourselves we've figured out exactly what's going to happen. Then somebody fumbles on the opening possession, and suddenly we're questioning every decision we've ever made that led us to become fans of this team.

We criticize because we care. We celebrate because we care. We argue with one another because we all think we know what's best for the program.

And, occasionally, we leave group chats because apparently even our friendships have a point spread.

But when the clock hits zero and Louisiana walks off the field with another victory, all of that nonsense seems to disappear.

The frustrations fade. The arguments become jokes. The pessimists magically transform back into believers.

And we start looking ahead to the next game, fully prepared to put ourselves through the exact same emotional circus all over again.

I don't know which version of the Cajuns we're going to get against Coastal Carolina.

I don't know whether the team that struggled through the first half in Monroe or the one that dominated the second half is going to show up.

And I certainly don't know whether our group chat will survive the final two weeks of the regular season.

But I do know this.

We're 7-3. We just beat ULM by three touchdowns. We've got two games left, and nine regular-season wins are sitting right there for the taking.

So yeah, I'm excited.

I'm optimistic.

I'm greedy.

I want nine wins, dammit.

And if Coastal Carolina scores first next Saturday, I'll probably be questioning everything all over again.

Just do me one favor.

If I start complaining, don't kick me out of the group chat.

I'll be celebrating with the rest of you by the fourth quarter.

Hopefully.

C'est Tout!