Joey Aguilar – QB, Tennessee
Nickname: La Chancla (The Flip-Flop) Alternate: The Jaguilar (a redneck big cat)
After the Nico divorce, Tennessee fans didn’t see Aguilar coming — now they don’t want him to leave. He’s out there like a primo who got his shot and is making every compa proud from Brownsville to LA.
This guy’s deep ball has a body count. He throws with that quiet, angry confidence — like he remembers every recruiting slight, every time someone called him ‘undersized,’ every coach who said ‘slot receiver.’
In an interview when asked about La Chancla, Coach Heupel said Joey’s grandma taught him how to throw using a shoe. If Aguilar’s abuela really taught him how to throw, Tennessee better give her a headset. That’s generational accuracy, passed down like a Tia’s la chancla.
Now he’s out here dropping bombs like Rory teeing off in the Ryder Cup.
Tennessee’s offense is humming, and Aguilar’s command of the offense is no joke. But his growing legend isn’t just built on stats — it’s built on vibes.
Embracing the Sicario persona, Aguilar was spotted at a Knoxville Spirit Halloween asking if they had a “Bonnie & Clyde costume — but, like, where Clyde’s got more drip.”
Witnesses say he was holding his girlfriend’s Starbucks, wearing slides with no socks, and asking an underpaid employee whether a fake pistola would “pass SEC sideline regulations.”
He later posted a photo on Instagram: the two of them in full Sicario-core — her in narco glam, him in a tactical vest and a loincloth with a “#LaChancla” Velcro patch across the chest. Focus Jaguilar, less ints please.
Jacob Rodriguez – LB, Texas Tech
Nickname: El Azteca (like the old school badass)
If you’ve ever been hit so hard you start praying in two languages, that’s Texas Tech’s Jacob Rodriguez. But don’t let the box score fool you — this isn’t just football. It’s a aztec priest on a pyramid.
Rodriguez plays like he’s enforcing border policy in both directions.
Ball carriers feel like they crossed the Van Horn checkpoint with no papers. Last week, he hit a running back so hard, on the sideline the kid opened his LinkedIn and changed his employment status to ‘open to work’.
Busca: Seven forced fumbles. Three picks. Two touchdowns. And he hits with the kind of violence that makes offensive coordinators ask philosophical questions at halftime. Ese’s built like a carne asada grill. Dude don’t just hit — he makes highlights that ruin family dinners for offensive linemen.
Texas Tech’s defense is top 10, and he’s the engine, the fire, the one yelling in Spanish on the sideline — and no one’s got the guts to ask him to stop.
LWS submitted an FOIA request to confirm whether El Sr. Rodriguez is, in fact, human.
Next: Pavia vs Aguilar in Neyland. A fight over the Plazas.
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