It’s over, friends. After nearly four decades of college football theatre, Lee Corso is hanging up the giant mascot heads. The 90‑year‑old legend will sit behind ESPN’s “College GameDay” desk one last time in Columbus, Ohio, before No. 1 Texas faces No. 3 Ohio State — the same program that gave birth to his headgear tradition . ESPN and Corso announced back in April that the 2025 season opener would mark his farewell .
Corso isn’t just retiring from a TV show — he’s stepping away from an institution he helped build. Debuting on “GameDay” in 1987, he joined a studio show that wasn’t even on location . By 1996 he and a young Kirk Herbstreit conspired with Ohio State’s athletic department to secure Brutus Buckeye’s big head, and when he pulled the head over his own, the segment went from prediction to performance art . That headgear stunt — repeated more than 400 times — made him the ringmaster of Saturday mornings. Fans turned up not just for analysis but to see what Corso would throw, fire or hoist next . He retires with a record of 286–144 (.665) in mascot selections and a perfect record when picking USC, Virginia Tech and North Dakota State .
From Coach to Character
Before television, Corso was a coach who understood the grind. He played defensive back and quarterback at Florida State and still ranks third in school history with 14 career interceptions . He later led Louisville and Indiana, then even the USFL’s Orlando Renegades. Those jobs didn’t deliver championships, but they gave him authenticity. As Yahoo’s Ian Casselberry noted, he brought the “passion of a fan” to the broadcast instead of resting on his résumé . The pencil tucked between his fingers and his patented “Not so fast, my friend!” were just as integral as his picks .
Corso’s contributions were never just about guessing winners; they were about creating a shared experience. ESPN senior writer Ryan McGee remembers being a college kid in the early 1990s watching “GameDay” in the dorm, screaming at the TV depending on whether Corso picked Tennessee . That emotional tether is why fans call him college football’s grandfather. When he suffered a stroke in 2009, Kirk Herbstreit shepherded him back to the desk, and the show adjusted — sometimes visiting his house during the pandemic to keep him on screen . Even as ESPN cut back his appearances, his wit and timing still lit up the broadcast .
The Send‑Off
August 30, 2025, isn’t just a date — it’s the end of a ritual. “College GameDay” is broadcasting from outside St. John Arena in Columbus, and host Rece Davis will be joined by Herbstreit, Desmond Howard, Pat McAfee and newcomer Nick Saban to celebrate Corso’s final show . It’s such a moment that Fox’s competing “Big Noon Kickoff” plans to show his final headgear pick on the Ohio Stadium Jumbotron . Buckeyes coach Ryan Day has even presented Corso with a special helmet decorated with a sticker for every time he picked Ohio State . The crowd will roar no matter which mascot he dons: Texas’s Hook ’Em or Ohio State’s Brutus. Both networks and fan bases know they’re witnessing a curtain call.
Expect a parade of tributes. Scott Van Pelt has already dedicated a segment to Corso’s legacy . Reporter Tom Rinaldi and statistician Chris “Bear” Fallica, both former colleagues now at Fox, will pay their respects . And fans will arrive with banners and signs, because as Casselberry wrote, it’s an “end of an era” that feels properly earned .
What Comes Next
Will there ever be another Lee Corso? Probably not, and that’s okay. The sport will move on — that’s what sports do — but his influence will linger in every show that borrows his spontaneity. Fox’s decision to televise his final pick is a tacit admission that their own pregame show wouldn’t exist without him . Younger analysts like Pat McAfee bring new energy, and Nick Saban’s tactical mind promises fresh insight. But none will replicate the mix of coach, comedian and carnival barker that Corso perfected.
Corso himself once told then‑host Tim Brando, “This show is going to be the trigger for your career and my career. I’m going to be the Dick Vitale of college football” . He was right. He became the face of a sport he loved, the man whose opinion you argued with over breakfast. When he says “Not so fast, my friend!” for the last time and vanishes from the set, college football Saturdays will feel different. We’ll miss the old coach’s antics, but we’ll be grateful we got to share them. Enjoy the show, and remember: don’t you dare change the channel during that last headgear pick.