As college football’s regular season winds down in the Evergreen State, I’m looking at two fan bases of its highest-level programs who are discomfited lately by events around their teams. Of course, they’re of a completely different ilk, which is proper and expected of two whose Apple Cup rivalry I termed the most distinctive in the country in my recent book, “Too Good to Be Through.”

On Montlake, the locals were salved a bit by the Huskies’ scalding of Purdue, a week after the season went south at Wisconsin. Of more overriding intrigue is the status of the head coach, Jedd Fisch, whose itinerant track record and whose circuitous description of his future at the UW leaves some Husky fans wondering.

Last week, a day before Fisch attempted to quash rumors that he might leave, Jordan Reffett, former UW defensive tackle and an active participant on X (the former Twitter), wrote, “It pisses me off Fisch hasn’t come out publicly and said he loves his job at the University of Washington, and yes, coaching is a crazy (profession) but I see myself here for a long time. Recruits need to hear this also. Get in front of the media Monday and s--- or get off the pot.”

In answer to a question, Fisch indeed did address his status at the UW. But a lot of it was coach-speak, hardly a denial of interest in any other job. Reffett responded by softening his comments and saying he’s “100 percent behind Coach Fisch and his staff.”

But there seems to be a widespread sense that Fisch isn’t long for Montlake, once a coaching non sequitur at the UW but now, seemingly, part of the cost of doing business.

Somewhere along the way, apparently, Washington quit being a destination job and transitioned to a waystation. Darrell Royal left the UW after one year for Texas way back in 1956, followed by 18-year stints from two guys who won national championships at Washington, Jim Owens and Don James. Each had his chances to leave.

It was all the way to the 21st century that there was a coach with wandering eyes, and that was Rick Neuheisel. He dabbled in a Notre Dame opening and interviewed with the San Francisco 49ers, which, eventually and ironically, helped lead to his firing at Washington after he lied about the dalliance.

Kalen DeBoer departed the UW for Alabama after the 2023 season, unbowed by the pressures of that job. Now Fisch can rewrite the common narrative of his future here, but the betting seems to be on him taking a powder as well.

Maybe the desirability of the UW job hasn’t changed, but the times have. Maybe realignment has made the odds longer at Washington. Maybe being a West Coast member of a conference based in the Midwest isn’t optimal.

In any case, it’s unsettling for many Washington fans. The older ones grew up in an era when there were no pro sports, when the Huskies ruled the local sportsscape. Now their coaches land on lists of possible replacements, like Washington was Memphis or Tulane or Western Kentucky.

Or … Louisiana Tech, the team that ventured to Washington State to meet the Cougars Saturday night in this weird, out-of-body, 2025 experience WSU is having.

Jim Moore, the uber-Coug and my old Post-Intelligencer teammate, posted a video of the crowd at Martin Stadium and commented, “Sad.” Hard to judge for certain, but there might not have been 10,000 people there.

But was it sad because realignment has visited a season from hell on the Cougars, forcing upon them a jerry-rigged schedule while they await the coming of the cavalry from the Mountain West? Or are we saying it was sad because a lot of old November challenges came home to roost on the program?

In that vein, who said the following? “There’s no such thing as Cougar spirit. To those who support us, God bless you. To hell with everybody else who talks spirit and not support, because I’m getting sick and tired of having to overcome this.”

That was Coach Jim Walden, who turned his loquaciousness on his own fans way back in mid-November1983, a couple of days after WSU drew 15,000 while beating Cal with a team that finished 7-4 and on a five-game winning streak.

The point is, these late-season attendance issues have dogged WSU for a lot longer than anybody began thinking USC would make for a perfect fit in the Big Ten.

 In 1988, the year the Cougars upended top-ranked UCLA on the road, they put 19,702 in the place Nov. 12, needing a win over Oregon State to secure their first bowl since 1981.

 In 1992, two weeks before the renowned Snow Bowl, WSU, en route to a 9-3 season, drew 15,441 to play Arizona State on Nov. 7.

 Amid two bowl seasons in 2021 and 2024, they did 17,000 and change in November for Arizona and Wyoming.

No doubt the jangled 2025 season with its cockeyed schedule plays into this, and so does a team that’s not successful on a grand scale. Take a look at WSU attendance over the years in November, and it’s pretty consistently boffo when the Cougars are, too. But I can’t muster a lot of sympathy for the notion that people who won’t drive dark, wet (or icy) two-lane roads for hours in late season are somehow letting the program down. (Attendance-shaming on message boards threatens to become as much of a tradition at WSU as Ferdinand’s.)

I can’t think of another program in the country that depends more on people who must travel a considerable distance. It was relatively mild weather Saturday night, you say? But how do you know that when you’re making plans on Tuesday or Wednesday? Meanwhile, rooms are hard to find, and if you locate one, it’s at a price that’s skyrocketed faster than the cost of a decent deep snapper.

Fans decry the night games that dot the schedule and require sacrifice and midnight drives. But schools pant after the TV paychecks they get for playing late games.

College football must be a hell of a sport. Can’t live with it, can’t live without it.