Bryce Anderson, Please Save Me (and Texas A&M’s Secondary)
Alright, let’s cut the small talk. Bryce Anderson, if you’re reading this: I need you. We all need you. Texas A&M needs you to be the guy in the secondary this year. Not just good. Not just “steady veteran presence.” I need you to play safety like you’re protecting my very fragile mental health.
Because if this Aggie secondary falls apart again? If we give up 65-yard touchdowns to some Sun Belt transfer quarterback in September? I’m cooked. Absolutely finished. Put me in witness protection.
The Stakes
Anderson is a senior now. The veteran. The leader. The guy everyone is pointing at in the locker room and saying, “You got us, right?”
He’s versatile. He can cover. He can hit. He can be that quarterback of the defense that stops the stupid busts that make every fan base go from “We’re back!” to “Fire everyone!” in the span of two drives.
A&M’s defense is supposed to be the calling card of Mike Elko’s program. It’s supposed to be mean, disciplined, relentless. But none of that works if the back end is swiss cheese. And that’s why Bryce Anderson isn’t just important — he’s essential.
Bryce, I Am Begging You
Bryce, buddy, I’m talking to you directly now. I know you don’t owe me anything. I know you don’t even know who I am. But please — I cannot spend another season watching wide receivers streak past Aggie safeties like they’re running in a 4th of July parade.
I can’t do the “defense looks elite until a 3rd-and-17 bomb ruins everything” routine again. My blood pressure can’t handle it. My therapist has stopped taking my calls on Saturdays. You are my only hope.
You have to be the eraser. The fixer. The “nope, not on my watch” guy. You have to fly around, break up passes, pick off quarterbacks, and make tackles that keep drives alive for A&M instead of the opponent.
Because when you’re great, the whole secondary looks great. When you’re shaky, suddenly everyone else is shaky. And then I’m shaky. And then the whole program is shaky. It’s a domino effect that ends with me screaming into a Whataburger honey butter chicken biscuit at midnight.
The Path Forward
The Aggies lost Noah Thomas to Georgia, and the offensive side of the ball will need time to figure out its rhythm. That means the defense — specifically the secondary — has to carry this team early. And you, Bryce Anderson, are the linchpin.
You’ve got the experience. You’ve got the talent. You’ve got the chance to put together a season where you’re not just All-SEC, you’re the reason the Aggies stay in the playoff conversation past Halloween.
My Totally Rational Request
Bryce, I’m not asking for miracles. I’m not asking for you to teleport across the field like you’re in The Matrix (though if you can, please do).
I’m asking for:
One interception that flips a big game.
A couple of highlight hits that make opposing receivers think twice about crossing the middle.
The kind of leadership that keeps blown coverages to a minimum.
That’s it. That’s all I need. Just… save me.
Final Word
This entire season may come down to whether Bryce Anderson becomes the guy in the secondary. If he does, the Aggies can hang with anyone in the country. If he doesn’t, I’m going to be chewing through remote controls by mid-October.
So Bryce, for the sake of the team, the fans, and specifically my own sanity… please, please have a massive year.
Prediction: Bryce Anderson’s 2025 season will either extend my lifespan by 10 years or shave it down to 35. Nothing in between.
