How the 'Calgorithm' has become college football's newest obsession

BERKELEY, Calif. -- Miles Goodman, a first-year grad student at UC Berkeley, had no idea the chain of events he was about to set off when he opened his photo-editing app late in Cal's 21-14 win at Auburn on Sept. 7.

For months, Goodman had interacted with opposing fan bases under the handle @golDonbear on X, and it was normal for him to run into barbs about Cal as a bastion of progressive values. The stereotyping was often meant to be insulting, but it usually just left Goodman amused.

Still, those comments were top of mind as Cal put the finishing touches on a win in which it physically dominated the Tigers at Jordan-Hare Stadium.

"I was like, 'OK, well this thing that you are pushing both Cal as a team and as an institution, why not take it on from a satirical lens?'" Goodman said.

He cobbled together a few poignant photos, slapped on a rainbow and completed his meme with the phrase, "You just lost to the woke agenda."

When the official Auburn football account posted a final score graphic on X, Goodman repostedit with his work of art. The post went viral, and in the weeks since has been viewed more than 5 million times.

The common sentiment among college football fans: Cal Twitter, I was not familiar with your game.

Goodman's post was an inflection point in what has led to the Calgorithm, the overarching term that has come to define Cal's irreverent community of fans whose self-deprecating brand of internetting has generated fresh enthusiasm about the football program as it begins a new life in the ACC.

Armed with basic photo- and video-editing skills, generative AI art tools and the desire to change the perception that people in Berkeley don't care about football, the Calgorithm is powered by a mix of longtime fans who use their real names and a larger group of mostly anonymous posters, known as "the burners." Their dedication played a contributing factor in the decision from ESPN's "College GameDay" to visit Cal this week for the first time.

"It's not that we changed that much," a burner known as Admiral Bear told ESPN. "It's that the national consciousness figured out that we exist and that we're interesting."

AUGUST 2023 WAS a particularly stressful month for Cal fans as the Pac-12 collapsed, leaving the Bears and rival Stanford with an uncertain future.

"There was a real fear that Cal football could die," said Nick Kranz, a lifelong Cal fan and a contributor to the website Write for California. "Either a literal death, like the school decides, 'This is not worth it and we're going to stop playing football.' Or a more figurative death. 'We're going to keep doing it in the Mountain West, but we're going to get no revenue out of it and we're never going to achieve anything.'"

Anxiety built over several weeks as the Bay Area schools languished in the Pac-12, their conference home for over 100 years, before the ACC formally admitted the pair on the eve of the first weekend of the college football season.

It was a strange development to process. From the press box at Cal's Memorial Stadium, there is a view of the San Francisco Bay, and on a clear day it's possible to see beyond the Golden Gate Bridge out to the Pacific Ocean. Yet, the stadium would now host games in the Atlantic Coast Conference.

"Cal in the ACC is very strange," said Avinash Kunnath, another prominent member of Cal's online community who has written about the Bears for years. "There's no two ways around it. And it's not going to be something that's going to be easy for a lot of older (fans) or people who have been in the Pac-12 for 50 years. But I think the one thing our community has done is -- we live in the weird."

Most importantly, the move secured a place in a power conference, but it also led to this opportunity for fans to engage in circles of the internet they wouldn't have meandered to before. In the Pac-12, everything was familiar and there was monotony that came with that. In the ACC, Cal arrived with an element of intrigue for opposing fans, many of whom were unfamiliar with the school beyond its left-wing reputation.

For Cal fans, that dynamic turned into an opportunity.

"We embraced our identity, we started to get more comfortable with the woke stuff and all the things that come with the political side of things, but we didn't make it super serious," Kunnath said. "We just kept it kind of lighthearted. We poke fun at ourselves a lot, and we didn't run from our identity."

Added Kranz: "Cal gets the ACC lifeline and a bunch of people online who just love Cal football have decided, 'We are going to save Cal football through the sheer force of our vibes.'"

Considering how diametrically opposed Berkeley and Auburn, Alabama, are on the political spectrum, it was only natural for that to fuel the online banter leading up to and through the game. But as Cal fans playfully leaned into their own stereotypes, there was a disarming effect that welcomed anyone -- including Auburn fans -- to get in on the joke.
Their tone wasn't universally adored, but it was clear they tapped into something fun and different. Goodman's post was far from the only one that played with that theme, but its timing and execution made the most of the moment.

"That particular joke really hit on a nerve where it's like, 'OK, we're going to reappropriate the fact that you are looking down on us as lesser college football fans and you just lost to those lesser college football fans," Kranz said. "If you're going to make us a joke, then we're going to run with that joke and we're going to be the woke mob that can win football games and also go to goofy protests and hug the trees and whatever other silly stereotype that you like to make about Berkeley."

In the wake of the Auburn game, the community grew.

"I actually made my account that I use now -- @wokemobfootball -- right after the Auburn game and just went deep into it," a new burner, known as Callie, told ESPN. "I just happened to get lucky, saw a post, and the algorithm decided I needed more of it. And then I realized, 'Oh, this is something I really like. I'm going to go all the way in.'"

Callie grew up going to Cal games with her father and in the past had occasionally waded into Cal Twitter from her main account -- the one she uses her real name with -- but she could sense there was a movement afoot. The more absurd the joke, the better.

As more people got involved, the more coordinated everything became. A group chat within X includes more than 100 burners who share ideas and provide feedback for one another.

Momentum continued to build as Cal beat San Diego State31-10, but it was the following week when things reached a new level, as the Bears prepared for their ACC debut against Florida Statein Tallahassee.

A visit to Florida's state capital offered another opportunity to poke fun at the contrast in political viewpoints, and the Calgorithm took advantage. Name the stereotype, the burners embraced it.

Callie started an official tongue-in-cheek Change.org petition that called for FSU to change its mascot from the Seminoles to the Manatees.

"The Manatee--a graceful and majestic creature--aligns much better with Florida State's football team and fandom," the petition reads.

There was an onslaught of generative AI images. Those without editing skills realized the barrier for entry to fire off their own contributions wasn't very steep. All they needed was a couple of minutes and a finely tuned prompt and any number of online tools could spit back an image to match their vision.

For the team, the trip to Tallahassee ended poorly. Cal outgained FSU 410-284, but its offense was a disaster in the red zone, and the Bears failed to score a touchdown in a 14-9 loss. This could have been the moment for Cal fans to abandon ship and let the Calgorithm fade back into obscurity.

Instead, the opposite happened.

The Calgorithm doubled down headed into the bye week with the hope of luring "GameDay" to campus with top-10 Miamiheaded to Berkeley on Oct. 5.

FOR WEEKS, CAL'S fans had joked that the song "Hot to Go!" by Chappell Roan could be reworked as "Ott to Go," a nod to the Bears' star running back Jaydn Ott. But as the Calgorithm became more ambitious, the joke became a real endeavor.

"A friend of mine was like, 'I'm going to commission a singer and we're going to make 'Ott to Go' happen," Admiral Bear said. "And I'm just like, 'That's a big move. But if you're going to put up the money for it, that's cool.'"

But when Admiral Bear looked at the lyrics, he wasn't feeling them and decided to take his own stab.

"I punched out some lyrics and sent it to him, and he is like, 'That's a thousand percent better. We're absolutely going with that,'" Admiral Bear said. "We workshopped the lyrics a little bit, refined things here and there. He got demos from three different singers, and we picked the one we liked the best and sent her the lyrics. And a couple days later, she sent us the file."

The commission cost a little more than $300 and the Swedish singer, Micky Hage, had been previously unaware that Cal football even existed. After she finished recording, she learned more about the Bears, including the fact that their mascot and her boyfriend go by the same name: Oski.

Callie had volunteered to make an accompanying music video and on Friday worked on it past 3 a.m. The completed version was well received when it posted Saturday, reflecting another step forward by the Calgorithm.

At work Monday, a co-worker went by Callie's desk specifically to show her the "Ott to Go" video.

"He's a Cal alum and he showed it to me, and I kept quiet," she said. "He was like, 'This is so funny. Did you know about Cal Twitter?' I was like, 'Oh, yeah, I've heard of that.'

"I did send it to my dad and said, 'Hey, I made this,' but definitely not to my co-workers. I don't need them knowing about my burner account."

ON THE SAME day the "Ott to Go" video posted, "GameDay" announced it was headed to Berkeley. Segments of the Calgorithm had been lobbying for the show since the FSU loss and there was some cautious optimism after Miami stayed undefeated Friday night through a controversial ending against Virginia Tech.

"I was at Target in Emeryville when I found out," Goodman said. "I did a backflip in the parking lot. Literally a backflip. The last time I ever hit a backflip was like eight years ago when I was doing gymnastics."

Without the enthusiasm from the Calgorithm, it's hard to gauge how appealing Berkeley would have been for the show. What's clear is there is a correlation between what's happening online and real-world benefits.

After "GameDay" announced it was coming, the California Legends Collective announced an inspired anonymous donor was willing to match up to $1 million in donations ahead of the Miami game, and in the first 36 hours the collective received more than $300,000 in pledges.

"Having a bunch of super-smart, super-engaged, super-creative people lending their voices to this and kind of raising awareness of Cal football has been a godsend," said Kevin Kennedy, the collective's executive director. "We don't have this million-dollar match without 'GameDay.' So if we're kind of saying that the Calgorithm brought us 'GameDay,' then the Calgorithm brought us a million dollars and counting."

"We're going to hit the million-dollar match. I think the only question is how much we're going to go over the million-dollar match. So we'll have at least $2 million more in NIL than we would've without this happening. So it's been terrific."