There is a certain etiquette to attending a funeral. One is expected to dress appropriately, speak in hushed tones and, where possible, refrain from pointing out that the deceased had been looking rather unwell for some time. It is generally considered poor form to suggest that the whole thing might have been avoidable, particularly when the surviving relatives are still attempting to make sense of what has happened.
This Saturday, TCU is asking its supporters to dress in black for the Horned Frogs' Halloween encounter with Kansas . The occasion has been christened "Haunting at The Carter," a delightfully theatrical name for what is supposed to be a festive afternoon in Fort Worth, complete with the usual Halloween frivolities and the possibility of a football game breaking out somewhere along the way.
It is, admittedly, an unfortunate choice of theme.
TCU football is beginning to look like a patient whose family has been summoned to the hospital. The doctors insist there is still a pulse, the charts suggest that several vital organs are functioning perfectly well and nobody has quite worked up the courage to turn off the machines. But the atmosphere in the waiting room is hardly encouraging.
The Horned Frogs are favored to beat Kansas. The statistics, as they have rather frequently this season, suggest that there is a perfectly capable football team buried somewhere inside this increasingly dysfunctional operation.
Those figures, however, have not spent the past several Saturdays watching TCU invent new and occasionally spectacular ways to lose.
Perhaps they should.
Oct 17, 2026; Waco, Texas, USA; TCU Horned Frogs quarterback Jaden Craig (1) drops back to pass against the Baylor Bears during the first half at McLane Stadium. Mandatory Credit: Chris Jones-Imagn Images | IMAGN IMAGES via Reuters Connect
There was a time when statistics offered a certain comfort. They provided a means of understanding what had happened on a football field, of distinguishing between genuine superiority and the occasional cruel intervention of fortune. A team that consistently outgained its opponents, after all, could expect to win a fair number of games.
TCU has spent much of this season testing the limits of that particular theory.
Consider last week's 24-20 defeat against West Virginia. The Horned Frogs accumulated 484 yards of offense and controlled possession for more than 37 minutes. Jaden Craig threw for 372 yards, while the defense allowed the Mountaineers just 79 through the air.
Had somebody handed you those figures before the game, you might have assumed that TCU had enjoyed a pleasant afternoon. Perhaps the offense had finally rediscovered some of the competence it had misplaced earlier in the season. Perhaps a victory had restored a little faith in the direction of the program.
Instead, the Horned Frogs lost.
There is an almost admirable commitment to the absurdity of it all. TCU can move the football from one end of the field to the other, sometimes with considerable elegance, only to arrive within sight of the end zone and behave as though crossing the goal line requires written permission from the federal government.
The defense has generally been excellent, which makes the entire arrangement all the more irritating. There is something uniquely cruel about watching one half of a football team fulfill its responsibilities while the other appears determined to make those efforts irrelevant.
And yet the statistical evidence remains stubbornly favorable. TCU's defense is among the country's best at preventing points, and the offense has shown enough individual promise to suggest that its problems are not entirely attributable to a shortage of talent.
If football games were decided by the accumulation of encouraging evidence, the Horned Frogs might be enjoying their season.
Unfortunately, the scoreboard remains an obstinate traditionalist.
Perhaps the most irritating part of TCU's predicament is the lingering insistence that something can still be salvaged from the season. The Horned Frogs could reach six victories, qualify for some nondescript December bowl game and spend the following weeks congratulating themselves for persevering through adversity.
Oct 17, 2026; Waco, Texas, USA; TCU Horned Frogs wide receiver Jordan Dwyer (7) catches a pass against Baylor Bears cornerback Devon Jordan (7) during the first half at McLane Stadium. Mandatory Credit: Chris Jones-Imagn Images | IMAGN IMAGES via Reuters Connect
How lovely. Unfortunately, that wasn't the season many supporters had in mind.
The expectation was that TCU would compete for something meaningful, not merely earn the privilege of playing another football game in front of a few thousand people on a Wednesday afternoon in December. At 3-4, those ambitions feel buried, and no amount of statistical reassurance will persuade frustrated supporters that scraping together six wins constitutes a successful campaign.
Last week's defeat was followed by the dismissal of offensive line coach A.J. Ricker, another unpleasant development for Sonny Dykes as the program continues searching for answers. The frustration surrounding the offense suggests that supporters have grown tired of hearing about progress that never seems to materialize on the scoreboard.
And perhaps that growing frustration is less about the defeats themselves than what they represent. The Horned Frogs have reached the point where even a strong finish would struggle to erase the opportunities already squandered. For supporters who expected a legitimate contender, the campaign they envisioned has already been pronounced dead.
All that's left is determining how much damage the survivors are prepared to endure.
The Jayhawks aren't coming to Fort Worth as some fearsome opponent, and the numbers suggest that TCU ought to win. The Horned Frogs' defense has been excellent, while their offense has shown enough promise to make another defeat against a struggling opponent particularly difficult to stomach.
Oct 24, 2026; Lawrence, Kansas, USA; Kansas Jayhawks safety Taylor Davis (27) celebrates during the second half against the Baylor Bears at David Booth Kansas Memorial Stadium. Mandatory Credit: Jay Biggerstaff-Imagn Images | IMAGN IMAGES via Reuters Connect
The problem is that the numbers have been telling a rather different story from the one unfolding on the field. They can explain why TCU should beat Kansas, but they've become increasingly useless at predicting whether the Horned Frogs will actually do it.
And at this point, even a victory would feel more like a temporary reprieve than some grand revival. Beating Kansas wouldn't restore the ambitions that disappeared over the past two months, nor would reaching bowl eligibility absolve the coaching staff of the failures that brought the program here.
There is still football to be played, of course, and plenty of reasons for the Horned Frogs to approach their remaining schedule with some professional pride. But those games now belong to a season whose original promise has faded, leaving the uncomfortable business of determining what comes next.
Which brings us back to Saturday's festivities.
Thousands of supporters will arrive at Amon G. Carter Stadium dressed in black, ostensibly celebrating Halloween. There will be plenty of costumes, although the most frightening sight might be a football team that has spent much of the past month making its own fans dread the arrival of another game day.
Perhaps TCU will beat Kansas. Perhaps the Horned Frogs will offer a glimpse of the team they were supposed to become, even if it arrives far too late to make much difference to those preseason expectations.
The season those supporters imagined, though, is already dead. The funeral arrangements are simply a matter of timing.
The numbers favor TCU. The vibes suggest somebody ought to bring flowers.
Join the conversation, share your score prediction and follow the game-day discussion on the KillerFrogs fan forum . Since 1997, KillerFrogs.com has brought TCU fans together for Horned Frogs news, opinions and the conversations that keep going long after the final whistle. Lowering Office Productivity Since 1997.
This article was originally published on www.si.com/college/tcu as TCU's Blackout Game Is Starting to Look Like a Funeral .
