Certain partnerships in college football feel sacred. Like the iconic duo of Lee Corso and Kirk Herbstreit on ESPN’s College GameDay. One was the showman with a Sharpie and a smile, and the other was a young analyst trying not to trip over his own sentences. Nearly 30 years later, Herbstreit peeled back the curtain on that bond and his earliest fear in an appearance with Dan Patrick.

“[ESPN] really did him right,” Kirk Herbstreit said on the Dan Patrick Show on October 14, reflecting on Lee Corso’s farewell show at Ohio State, the same place where he first donned the mascot head nearly three decades ago. But before the nostalgia kicked in, he dropped a little-known confession. “When I first started there. And I didn’t know what I was doing. And I had no clue. I watched Lee Corso,” he began.

“You know, he’d have a legal pad out. He would write in black Sharpie, like two or three sentences for his on-camera. He would have a green Sharpie for when he would do his throw line… and then he would have whatever he would say in green. And then in blue would go back on a single…. So I thought that’s what you’re supposed to do. So I got a legal pad, and I got Sharpies, and I tried to do what he did. And I could never. I was so terrified of trying to memorize.” What looked effortless on TV was years of practice and precision.

Behind that calm GameDay banter was a young Herbstreit sweating bullets while trying to keep up with a perfectionist master of the craft. “It was like he was reading a teleprompter because he had practiced it so much.” Kirk Herbstreit added. As Lee Corso aged and later suffered a stroke, their relationship evolved. The mentor became the one quietly supported by his protégé. “We never talked about it,” he recalled. “It was just, you know, you’re an Ohio guy. I’m Ohio guy. Like, what can I do to help kind of thing.” 

Over time, their on-screen chemistry reflected something deeper. An unspoken friendship built through years of laughter, empathy, and football talk that extended long after the cameras stopped rolling. Kirk Herbstreit’s words hit differently because ESPN’s tribute to Lee Corso wasn’t just a sendoff. “And I was really, really happy the way ESPN handled that. Sometimes, you know, big companies, a lot of people, things move on and they really did him right,” he said. “You know, that special they did. And the fact that it was at Ohio State, ironically enough, where he started with the headgear and finished with the headgear. It was a cool experience to be there with him.” 

Few farewells in sports television have carried such symmetry, and even fewer have showcased such authenticity. In a business that often moves on fast, ESPN took a rare moment to pause and honor its beating heart. What can be more human than that?

Lee Corso is like a second father to Kirk Herbstreit 

When Lee Corso officially announced his retirement earlier this year, his statement was filled with gratitude. “Special thanks to Kirk Herbstreit for his friendship and encouragement,” he said. And Kirk Herbstreit returned the love tenfold. “He has taught me so much throughout our time together, and he’s been like a second father to me,” he said. “It’s been my honor to have the best seat in the house to watch Coach put on that mascot head each week.”

Even as Lee Corso faced health challenges, Kirk Herbstreit defended his mentor’s sharpness. “I think a lot of people watch him and they see him tripping on his words and they think, ‘Oh that son of a b—–, he’s so old, why is he still there’,” he said. “And I’m like, ‘if you only knew, his cognitive mind is as sharp as ever.’” That’s the part viewers never saw. The fierce mind behind the slow words, the man who refused to let age define him.

Lee Corso’s exit might mark the end of an era for College GameDay, but Kirk Herbstreit’s reflection reminded everyone what truly made the show special. It wasn’t the headgear or the hype. It was friendship, mentorship, and the power of showing up for someone, week after week. Because when the cameras fade and the cheers die down, legends aren’t remembered for their picks. They’re remembered for their people.