Why Alabama Football Has a Perception Problem on Its Hands—And So Do You
- JonChristian Guyton
- Jan 2
- 2 min read
By JonChristian B. Guyton, Creative Director
There’s a story we tell ourselves in Tuscaloosa. A story of dominance, grit, and legacy. A story of the Tide rolling over competition with ease, earning its rightful place in college football’s pantheon. And for years, that story has been true. But this year, something shifted.

Despite Alabama’s undeniable pedigree, the College Football Playoff committee looked elsewhere. SMU, Clemson—their names were called. And though we watched teams like South Carolina, and others in the SEC falter in bowl games and still believe that Alabama would have soared if given a spot. The narrative isn’t about what could have been. It’s about what was.
The problem, of course, isn’t the truth. It’s the perception.
The pundits, the committees, the talking heads—what do they see? They see scores on a screen, headlines in bold, and the allure of fresh storylines. They see SMU’s “Cinderella” run and Clemson’s tradition of postseason resilience. They don’t see what we see: the grind, the preparation, and the belief that if Alabama had been given the chance, we’d be holding up the trophy.
But here’s the hard truth: perception is reality.
This isn’t just a problem for Alabama football—it’s a problem for you. In your business, your ministry, your career, or your personal life, people don’t see the hours of work you put in, the quiet moments of dedication, or the depth of your potential. They see the surface. The scores. The headlines.
And if you’re not intentional about shaping that narrative, someone else will write it for you.
The committee didn’t leave Alabama out because we’re not elite. They left us out because they were convinced—rightly or wrongly—that other teams told a better story this year. The same happens in the boardroom, the job interview, the pulpit, or the marketplace.
So, what do we do?
We change the narrative.
We don’t wait for people to notice our hard work or assume our greatness. We show them. Loudly. Clearly. Repeatedly. We make it undeniable. Alabama has to dominate not just on the field but in the minds of those who decide its fate. And so do you.
As a creative director, I’ve spent my career helping people and organizations do exactly that—crafting narratives that cut through the noise, building brands that demand attention, and creating messages that resonate long after the game is over.
Because whether you’re running a company, leading a ministry, or trying to make your mark in a crowded field, the lesson is the same: it’s not enough to be great. You have to show the world you’re great.
Alabama’s story isn’t over. Neither is yours. Let’s make sure the next chapter is written on our terms.
Let’s roll.
See less




Comments