CLASSLESS?”: Alabama Accused of Running Up Score in 73-0 Humiliation — ‘This Wasn’t Football, It Was a Public Execution’ 💥🔥

In a game that is already being labeled by critics as everything from “unnecessary” to “downright disgraceful,” Alabama’s 73-0 destruction of Louisiana-Monroe has ignited a firestorm of backlash and debate across the college football world. The Crimson Tide’s ruthless annihilation wasn’t just a win — it was the biggest shutout for Alabama since 1951, and many are questioning whether the point of the game was victory… or vengeance.

To Alabama fans, it was a long-awaited return to form — a brutal, unapologetic statement to the rest of college football after a shaky start to the season. To everyone else? It looked like a program drunk on dominance, unwilling to let its foot off the gas, even against an opponent who clearly never stood a chance.

The scoreboard didn’t stop climbing. The Tide didn’t slow down. And by the end of the night, questions weren’t about the victory, but whether Alabama had crossed the line into territory even Nick Saban might’ve blushed at. The final score — 73 to ZERO — wasn’t just eye-popping. It was historic. It was merciless. And it was, in the eyes of many, completely avoidable.

After all, this wasn’t a national title game. This wasn’t even a conference matchup. This was Alabama vs. Louisiana-Monroe — a paycheck game. A cupcake. A body bag opponent. Yet Alabama treated it like a playoff rematch with Georgia.

What’s worse? This wasn’t 1951. It was 2025 — an era where player safety, sportsmanship, and optics matter more than ever. And yet Alabama’s approach felt ripped from a different time — a time when humiliating opponents wasn’t just accepted, it was celebrated.

From the first whistle, it was clear Alabama was on a mission. Still stinging from their opening loss to Florida State, the Tide came out with fury. They didn’t just want to win — they wanted blood. And that’s exactly what they got. Every offensive series was a highlight reel. Every defensive stand a chokehold. Louisiana-Monroe couldn’t breathe, let alone respond.

The numbers tell the story. Alabama racked up over 600 yards of total offense. They shut out ULM completely, allowing almost nothing beyond the line of scrimmage. Ty Simpson, the Tide’s quarterback, was flawless — literally. He completed 17 of 17 passes, an unprecedented feat in Alabama history. He threw for 226 yards, three touchdowns, and even rushed for another.

The performance was surgical. It was flawless. And it was, depending on who you ask, needlessly cruel.

By halftime, Alabama was already up by 49 points. By the fourth quarter, fans were openly wondering why the starters were still involved. Why keep attacking? Why keep scoring? What statement needed to be made after 60 points?

Critics didn’t hold back. National analysts took to social media accusing Alabama of running up the score. Others called it “classless.” Some even compared the game to a “public execution,” a phrase that’s gone viral for capturing the sheer lopsided brutality of the contest.

“This wasn’t football,” one commentator tweeted. “It was ego-driven demolition.”

But defenders of the Crimson Tide argue that Alabama did exactly what elite programs are supposed to do: dominate inferior opponents, make a statement, and sharpen every edge ahead of tougher competition. After all, the College Football Playoff committee doesn’t reward mercy — it rewards results.

And Alabama got results. The offense clicked. The defense looked elite. The depth was on full display. And for a program trying to rebound after a chaotic offseason and a high-profile coaching transition, this blowout was more than just a win — it was a cleansing fire.

Kalen DeBoer, in his first year replacing the legendary Nick Saban, was all business after the game. He praised his team’s preparation, execution, and energy. When asked if the score got out of hand, he simply said, “We play to our standard — not the scoreboard.”

To Alabama, that might sound noble. To others? It sounded like deflection.

Because no matter how you frame it, a 73-point shutout raises questions — about priorities, about ethics, and about the widening gap between elite programs and the teams they schedule to slaughter.

Louisiana-Monroe took the beating with professional silence. Head coach Terry Bowden made no public complaint, but the look on his face said it all. He knew this game wasn’t just a mismatch — it was a message. The payout ULM received for playing Alabama likely softened the blow, but no amount of money erases the humiliation of being turned into a viral meme by halftime.

And the memes came fast. Clips of Alabama touchdowns were edited with Mortal Kombat sound effects. Fans joked that Alabama should be charged with assault. One fan even tweeted, “At this point, ULM should call the cops.”

This is the dark side of college football dominance. When powerhouse programs like Alabama flex their muscle against lower-tier teams, it’s not just lopsided — it’s embarrassing. It creates highlight reels for one side and trauma reels for the other. It’s not competition. It’s conquest.

And the most controversial part? It’s by design.

Games like this are scheduled years in advance. Big schools need tune-ups. Smaller schools need the money. But what happens when that system turns into nationally televised humiliation? Is that good for the sport? Or is it time to start asking whether these matchups do more harm than good?

Alabama’s fans don’t seem to care. To them, this was catharsis. After a week of criticism, this was payback. A reminder to the rest of the SEC — and the nation — that the Tide isn’t fading quietly into the Saban-less night. And that’s understandable. Alabama is Alabama. Winning isn’t just expected — it’s demanded.

But when the scoreboard reads 73-0, you have to wonder: where is the line?

Is there ever a point when winning becomes bullying? Is there ever a margin too wide to justify? Or has the sport fully embraced the idea that dominance, no matter how brutal, is always justified?

This isn’t about asking Alabama to apologize for being great. It’s about asking whether the game is better when we crush the weak to praise the strong. Because while Crimson Tide fans chant “Roll Tide” and flood social media with celebration, ULM players are heading back home with a different reality — one that won’t trend, won’t be remembered, and won’t be put in any highlight reel.

That’s the real controversy. Not just the score. But what it says about the direction of college football.

Because if Alabama’s 73-0 win is the new standard, then the sport might not be about competition anymore.

It might just be about domination at all costs.

And if that’s the future? Then don’t be surprised when more people start asking the same question critics shouted Saturday night:

“Is this still football — or is it just warfare in helmets?”