Hughes: Virginia Tech Football's 2025 Season A Tale of Two Campaigns

The dividing line was a less than 24-hour span in mid-September.

Nov 22, 2025; Blacksburg, Va.; Virginia Tech offensive lineman Aidan Lynch (76) helps quarterback William Watson III (5) into the end zone. | Brian Bishop-Imagn Images

Virginia Tech football’s 2025 season has been a tale of two campaigns, split cleanly down the middle by a single decision, one that reshaped the trajectory of the program. Perhaps the best way to frame it is in eras: Before Pry's Firing (BPF) and After Pry (AP). The dividing line between those two periods wasn’t a gradual shift or an emotional breaking point over time. It was a moment, a night of clarity. It arrived late on Sept. 13 and carried into the early hours of Sept. 14, when a firm, irreversible call was made on the future of then-head coach Brent Pry.

Happy Thanksgiving from our family to yours ! 🧡 pic.twitter.com/AMhKCUMTQI

— Virginia Tech Football (@HokiesFB) November 27, 2025

0–3 didn’t cut it. Not when the losses looked the same as they had during the lowest points of the previous decade. Not when the in-game issues — stagnant offense, reoccurring defensive leaks, and a lack of identity under center — continued to reappear like clockwork.

What came next was, in many ways, unprecedented for Virginia Tech. The athletic department chose decisiveness over patience, urgency over inertia. Pry’s dismissal didn’t just end a chapter, but ripped the bandage off a problem that had been festering beneath the surface. It sent a message that the program was no longer content with incremental steps or rebuilding stretched across multiple seasons. The decision was as symbolic as it was tactical. The department determined that the time was now.

The days that followed revealed a team caught between shock and opportunity. BP was defined by frustration — close losses, flashes of potential overshadowed by inconsistency and a fan base that had grown restless watching the same issues repeat. Games often felt like uphill battles before halftime. Optimism slowly dwindled from last year to this year. Familiar questions returned. Was this the new norm? Could the program regain its footing in an ACC that had only grown more competitive?

But AP feels immediately different.

The turnaround wasn’t instantaneous or magical — no midseason coaching change ever is. But it was noticeable. The Hokies began playing with urgency that had previously only appeared in short bursts. The offense found rhythm, not through sweeping schematic shifts, but through streamlined decision-making and a renewed sense of confidence, particularly on the ground.

Most importantly, the roster responded. The team started to resemble the version of itself fans thought they’d see in August — a group capable of competing, even if wins rarely came.

Yet the story of the AP era isn’t solely about on-field adjustments. It’s also about identity. For years, Tech had wrestled with a lingering question: what should modern Virginia Tech football look like? The interim period, brief as it may be, offered an unexpected window into that answer. My guess: The team’s willingness to lean on physicality, a more old-school "pound the rock" run-first style and to prioritize player development. Something that felt like old Tech while simultaneously not adopting a "good ol' days" feeling.

And looming over everything was the impending arrival of James Franklin, a hire that signaled the clearest institutional commitment to football the school had made in two decades. Franklin offers vision where uncertainty once stood, structure where inconsistency had ruled and a national recruiting presence the Hokies desperately need to regain ground in the ACC. His presence reframes the second half of the season. Wins become proof points. Competitive games become indicators of readiness for what comes next. Even losses carry different weight, revealing not futility but foundation.

In the AP era, Tech wasn’t just playing out the string. It was auditioning for its future, redefining its culture and proving that the program still possessed fight, resiliency and potential worth investing in.

So, yes. 2025 has been two seasons in one. The first marked by frustration, the second by possibility. The turning point wasn’t a game-winning drive or a deflating injury, though there's certainly been some of those this year. It was a decision made in the still hours of September, a recognition that the program’s ceiling could no longer be constrained by hesitation.

BPF and AP. Two identities. One season. For the first time in a long time, the path forward feels starkly clearer than the ground left behind. Happy Thanksgiving, from everyone at Virginia Tech On SI.