Oklahoma City — The WCWS final was supposed to be Gerry Glasco’s grand vindication. A million-dollar arm in the circle. Seven transfer mercenaries on the roster. Five of them — FIVE — taken straight from the once-proud Louisiana softball program he gutted. This was the moment he had chased: to take Texas Tech, a program with barely a blip of national relevance, and win it all in front of the softball world.

But poetic justice had other plans.

Texas Tech didn’t get it done. Not when it mattered most. And all the money, manipulation, and portal poaching couldn’t save them.

This wasn’t just a loss — this was a full-circle moment. Glasco didn’t just fail to win a title — he failed to finish what he destroyed another program to build.

Let’s talk about Louisiana. For nearly three decades, Ragin’ Cajuns softball was a blue-collar powerhouse. They did more with less. They terrified Power 5 teams with grit, defense, timely hitting, and a no-fear mentality. It was one of the sport’s greatest underdog dynasties. And then came Glasco, whose final act in Lafayette was to torch the culture, gut the roster, and pack his bags for Lubbock with five of Louisiana’s top players in tow.

And for what? A shortcut to the top.

He didn’t want to build Texas Tech into a winner. He wanted to transfer winning into it — literally. Five of his key players came from Louisiana. Add in a million-dollar NIL deal for a hyped ace in the circle, and this was a Frankenstein roster built in a lab, not a locker room.

And how did they respond in the final? With some mental mistakes and they couldn’t finish the job that they spent over a million dollars to try and complete. Just a coach who looked out of answers once the Longhorns punched back. That “million-dollar arm”? Couldn’t carry them across the finish line. The portal pickups? Couldn’t rise to the moment. Glasco’s big bet? Busted.

Texas Tech didn’t lose because they lacked talent. They lost because they lacked identity. They were a stitched-together roster of former stars with no real chemistry and a coach who abandoned the roots of culture for the gloss of a quick championship. And when they met a real team — one built the right way, with development, discipline, and trust — they got exposed.

Louisiana didn’t just lose a coach when Glasco left. They lost an era. But maybe now, the Cajun faithful can finally close the book. Because the man who tried to buy a title with what he stole from Acadiana couldn’t finish the job. And now all he’s left with is a second-place trophy and a legacy of betrayal.

Glasco tore down three decades of Ragin’ Cajuns tradition to chase a ring in Lubbock. But he forgot one thing: you can’t steal culture, and you can’t buy championships.

You have to earn them. And Texas Tech — just like Gerry Glasco — didn’t.