In the ever-evolving landscape of college football, Texas Tech finds itself at a curious crossroads. Despite flashes of brilliance and moments of undeniable potential, the Red Raiders have been glaringly absent from the Big 12 Championship game for the entire 29-year history of the league. As conference realignment reshapes the narrative of the sport and new power structures emerge, the fact remains: Texas Tech has yet to play for a Big 12 football title, and it hasn’t posted a nine-win season since 2009. This persistent underachievement hangs over the program like a storm cloud that refuses to pass, demanding introspection from every corner of Lubbock.
The Red Raiders are not a program bereft of history or passion. Jones AT&T Stadium is known for its rowdy, loyal fanbase, and the school has produced its share of electric offenses and NFL-caliber talent. Most notably, the Mike Leach era in the early-to-mid 2000s helped redefine what an air raid offense could look like at the collegiate level. That innovative spark, however, hasn’t translated into sustained success in the modern era. The 2008 season remains a bittersweet memory—highlighted by Michael Crabtree’s last-second touchdown catch against Texas—but even that high-water mark ended in disappointment. One year later, in 2009, the Red Raiders won nine games, marking the last time they reached that benchmark. Since then, they’ve existed in a perpetual cycle of resets, near-misses, and rebuilding.
The post-Leach era has not been kind to Texas Tech. The succession of head coaches—Tommy Tuberville, Kliff Kingsbury, Matt Wells, and now Joey McGuire—has each come with its own brand of hope and promised culture changes, yet none have been able to lift the program into true contention. Kingsbury, a former Red Raider quarterback and poster child for the school’s past offensive firepower, generated excitement but ultimately couldn’t build a consistent winner. Wells was supposed to bring structure and defense; instead, he brought inconsistency and a sub-.500 record. Now, McGuire, a Texas high school football legend with deep roots in the state’s prep coaching scene, represents the latest attempt at revival.
What makes Texas Tech’s long absence from Big 12 contention all the more frustrating is the opportunity that the league, especially in its current configuration, has historically presented. Unlike the SEC, where juggernauts dominate every year, or the Big Ten, where Michigan and Ohio State cast massive shadows, the Big 12 has traditionally been more fluid. Teams like Baylor, Kansas State, TCU, and Oklahoma State—programs not far off from Texas Tech in terms of resources and recruiting reach—have all made appearances in the Big 12 Championship game. TCU made the College Football Playoff national title game. Baylor has won the league multiple times since 2013. Kansas State took the crown in 2022. These aren’t blue bloods; they’re programs that figured out how to punch above their weight. That Texas Tech hasn’t been able to do the same reveals deeper, systemic challenges.
One of the persistent issues facing Texas Tech is recruiting. Lubbock, while a passionate college town, is geographically isolated from the talent-rich regions of Texas like Dallas, Houston, and East Texas. While the program has had some success pulling in dynamic athletes, especially on the offensive side of the ball, it has consistently struggled to build rosters that are deep and balanced enough to compete with the league’s best. The defensive side of the ball has been particularly problematic for over a decade. Even when Tech had an offense that could light up scoreboards, it often lacked the defense to finish games or contend for titles.
Development and retention have also been issues. In the transfer portal era, programs like Texas Tech are especially vulnerable to losing homegrown stars to bigger-name schools after they blossom. Conversely, the portal also provides opportunities to bring in impact players, but Tech hasn’t consistently capitalized on it to close the talent gap with upper-tier Big 12 rivals. It’s a balancing act—one that McGuire and his staff must master if they hope to change the narrative.
Despite these challenges, there is renewed hope in Lubbock. McGuire’s energy and deep ties to the Texas high school coaching community have already begun to pay dividends on the recruiting trail. His emphasis on toughness, defense, and culture has brought a new sense of purpose to the locker room. In 2022, the Red Raiders beat both Texas and Oklahoma in the same season for the first time in program history, signaling that perhaps the tide was beginning to turn. But symbolic victories only go so far. The standard in Lubbock is shifting, and moral victories won’t satisfy a fanbase that’s been waiting nearly three decades to play for a conference title.
The 2024 and 2025 seasons could be pivotal. The Big 12 has undergone major realignment, with traditional powerhouses Texas and Oklahoma exiting for the SEC, and newcomers like Utah, BYU, Arizona, and Colorado entering the fold. This seismic shift arguably creates an opening. With the league’s power structure reset, the road to the conference championship might be more open than it’s ever been. Tech, however, must be ready to seize the moment. Consistency, depth, and player development will all need to align in a way they haven’t since the late 2000s.
McGuire’s leadership is being tested in real-time. The expectations are no longer rooted in delusion but in reasonable belief that Tech can at least join the group of programs who have played for the Big 12 crown. The Red Raiders don’t need to become a perennial powerhouse overnight, but they need to demonstrate forward momentum. A nine-win season wouldn’t just be a statistical achievement—it would be a symbolic break from a cycle of mediocrity that has plagued the program for over a decade.
It’s also about branding and identity. College football has become a national conversation more than ever, and schools that win—even those outside the traditional elite—can build reputations that attract talent, funding, and exposure. Texas Tech has the infrastructure, the passionate fanbase, and the in-state recruiting base to be relevant. What it needs now is a defining season. Not one where it spoils someone else’s hopes, but one where it sets its own narrative—one where Lubbock is not just a stop on someone else’s road to glory, but a destination with purpose.
As the Big 12 enters a new era without two of its original titans, the time is now for Texas Tech to rewrite its place in the conference hierarchy. No more excuses. No more “what ifs.” The path has never been clearer, but the challenge remains steep. Until they do it, the question will continue to linger in every press box, every pregame show, and every recruiting visit: Why hasn’t Texas Tech played for a Big 12 championship in 29 years?
