The Miami Hurricanes executed “THE STANDARD” &  GOT A BODY COUNT

The first half felt like a soggy group project — everyone showing up but nobody carrying the slides.

Then halftime hit, and Miami came out like they found out Stanford talked sh*t about their mom. The second half wasn’t football. It was felony assault in shoulder pads.

42–7. That’s not a win; that’s a public execution with a box score.

Mark Fletcher Jr. ran like rent was due tonight and broke off a career-high three touchdowns with 106 yards of pure “don’t touch me” energy. Carson Beck wiped the Louisville hangover out of his system and played point guard in a rainstorm — 21-of-28, 189 yards, 1 TD, and zero f***ups.

The defense? They treated Stanford’s offense like an Amazon return. Miami rolled. Stanford folded. Hard Rock turned into a muggy-ass crime scene and the Canes didn’t even try to hide the body.

Mario Cristobal didn’t give a pep talk. He issued a threat. Dude looked like he wanted blood and the roster said, “Bet.”

“Certainly proud of the way our guys just stuck with it after starting on the offensive side a little bit sluggishly… The defense did a phenomenal job… We just started clicking and playing more like Miami Hurricane football.”

Translation: We woke up and realized Stanford sucks.

Then he doubled down on the gospel:

“The standard is nothing but your absolute best in absolutely everything we do… stay on course and follow the game plan… at some point it’s going to break.”

And break it did. The Canes cracked Stanford’s spirit in half.

By the third quarter, Stanford was praying for a weather delay, divine intervention, or the national guard to break this s**t up.

FLETCHER RAN wild LIKE HE OWED SOMEONE MONEY

Mark Fletcher Jr. didn’t just run — he escaped.

Fletcher hit the hole like there was a bounty on his head, or like Damon Jones sprinting from the mafia (there’s a hit piece!). 23 carries, 106 yards, 3 touchdowns and a truck stick that needs to get reanimated into the next NCAA football game because damn that was embarrassing. Every time he touched the ball, Stanford defenders filed HR paperwork.

Cristobal was beaming like a proud dad at a fight night:

“Mark Fletcher showed why he’s such a great player and why he’s so important to this football team.”

Fletcher looked like he had taxes to collect.

Jordan Lyle (4-24-1) and Girard Pringle Jr. (3-12-1) added drive-by touchdowns of their own, just to flex. And Malachi Toney? Bro turned punts into performance art — 138 all-purpose yards with 73 on returns. Then dropped this heat:

“That right there was the standard for University of Miami football.”

Translation: Stanford can’t hang.

Carson Beck, meanwhile, stayed cool after last week’s four-pick meltdown.

“That was huge for us… rainy conditions… we kind of just got to ground it down… start rolling.”

No hero ball. No panic. Just clean execution and a slow, violent chokehold.

DEFENSE TURNED THE LIGHTS OUT

Stanford scored once (that was cute), blinked (said oh s**t, this isn’t not what we want) and then they woke up in the f**king morgue.

After their 74-yard opening drive, they managed a putrid, bulls**t 25 total yards the rest of the night.

25.

You could get that in Madden on a kneel-down.

Wesley Bissainthe kept it blunt:

“We just had to go out there and execute… calm down and do our job.”

Bissainthe and Xavier Lucas snagged picks like teenagers stealing Halloween candy from a baby (in my best LeBron voice “come man, that s**t’s too easy!)

Stanford QB Ben Gulbranson looked like he was throwing blindfolded by the second half — 12-of-26 for 89 yards and 2 INTs. That’s not passing; that’s performance art.

Even Frank Reich had to admit it:

“They got after us real good in the second half and gave it to us.”

Yeah, coach. They sure did.

THE BOX SCORE is AN OBITUARY & WHAT NOW? MORE BODIES.

Miami outgained Stanford 404–144, ran for 199 yards, and scored touchdowns on six of their last seven drives.

That one drive they didn’t? They got stopped on 4th down because they were chasing touchdowns, not vibes.

Fletcher cooked (23–106–3), Beck delivered (21/28/189/1), and everyone else got fed. Stanford’s stat sheet looked like a missing persons report — 55 total rushing yards, one touchdown, two picks, and a whole lot of sadness.

Cristobal finally got his team to stop talking about the “standard” and start living it. They didn’t just rebound. They retaliated.

“Proud of the way our guys stuck with it.”

Understatement of the f***ing year. Miami didn’t “stick with it.”

They skinned a tree mascot alive and danced in the rain.

Pack your bags for SMU. Bring ice. The Canes are back on their bullshit.