It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t over-rehearsed. But when Tennessee quarterback Joey Aguilar finally spoke publicly for the first time since leaving UCLA, it hit like a lightning bolt. “It’s all rat poison,” he said plainly, firmly, almost dismissively. With those four words, Aguilar delivered a pointed rejection of the constant speculation, media noise, and swirling public narrative that’s followed him through one of the most scrutinized offseasons in college football.
To fully understand the weight of his comment, you need to understand the context of Aguilar’s journey. A talented and gritty quarterback who originally made his mark at Appalachian State, Aguilar had been a rising figure in Group of Five circles. He displayed resilience, sharp decision-making, and a leadership style that was more substance than spotlight. After making waves at App State, he hit the transfer portal—a now common stop for many college athletes navigating both opportunity and uncertainty. That journey took him to UCLA, where expectations were high. But before long, it became clear that the fit wasn’t perfect. Whether it was timing, coaching direction, or internal dynamics, Aguilar saw the writing on the wall and made another move—this time to Tennessee, a program with its own intense spotlight and ambitions.
Now, standing before the press for the first time in orange and white, Aguilar was done pretending. “It’s all rat poison,” he said, referring to the barrage of headlines, hot takes, and overanalyzed soundbites that define college football media culture. He wasn’t just brushing off a question. He was setting a tone.
The phrase itself, “rat poison,” isn’t new in football circles. Nick Saban, Alabama’s legendary coach, famously used the term to describe the media hype and external praise that he felt distracted players from their mission. But Aguilar used it differently. He wasn’t rejecting praise—he was rejecting all of it: the criticism, the speculation, the questions about his transfer, and even the assumptions about what kind of quarterback he might be for Tennessee. For him, it’s all noise. It’s all toxic.
What came through in that moment was a young man who has clearly felt the pull of the spotlight, but is now choosing not to be controlled by it. Aguilar emphasized that what matters to him is not what fans tweet or what analysts predict; it’s the people inside the building—the coaching staff, his teammates, and the work being done on the practice field. In that statement, he revealed more about his mindset than any stat line could offer. He’s focused, grounded, and uninterested in playing the media’s game.
Aguilar’s arrival at Tennessee is significant not just for him personally, but for the entire Vols program. After a few seasons of upward momentum and changing quarterback dynamics, the team is in search of stability and leadership at the most important position on the field. There are other talented players on the depth chart—young, promising athletes like Jake Merklinger and George MacIntyre—but Aguilar brings experience. He’s been under pressure before. He’s been counted out. And now, he’s ready to compete.
What’s interesting is how Aguilar’s comment cuts against the grain of the typical preseason narrative. Usually, a new quarterback transfer arrives with lofty expectations and polished media soundbites. They talk about “earning the job,” “loving the fanbase,” and “respecting the process.” Aguilar didn’t bother with that script. He spoke from a place of irritation and purpose. He’s clearly tired of the speculation and eager to move on to what actually matters—football.
His message isn’t just for the media. It’s also for his teammates. When a player draws a line between what’s outside and what’s inside, it sends a message to the locker room: this guy is here to work. He’s not trying to win headlines. He’s trying to win snaps, games, and respect. That attitude matters, especially in a program like Tennessee’s, where the spotlight can either sharpen or blind a player’s focus. Aguilar seems intent on avoiding the latter.
He also spoke about his family during the interview, bringing a more personal side to the moment. He shared memories of watching football growing up, how his father’s passion for the game shaped his own love for competition, and how they reacted to his decision to come to Knoxville. It’s clear that this move wasn’t made lightly. For Aguilar, Tennessee isn’t just another stop. It’s a place where he feels he has something to prove—but only to the right people.
His comments come just days ahead of fall camp, where competition at quarterback will be intense. No starter has been officially named, and there’s every indication that Aguilar is part of a three-way race for the job. Every rep, every drill, and every scrimmage will be dissected by coaches and insiders alike. Aguilar isn’t guaranteed anything except the opportunity to compete. That’s the nature of big-time football, especially in the SEC. But if his words are any indication, he welcomes that challenge—and plans to block out everything else.
It’s not hard to see why Aguilar might feel the need to draw a line in the sand. In today’s college football world, everything is analyzed, criticized, and turned into content. The moment a player transfers, debates begin about whether they were overrated, underperforming, or simply not good enough. The assumption is often that if you’re moving schools, you must have failed at the last one. But Aguilar rejects that assumption. He’s not interested in being labeled, boxed in, or written off.
There’s a lesson in Aguilar’s approach—not just for players, but for fans and media as well. The transfer portal has changed the landscape of college football, giving athletes more agency and more options. But it’s also made them more vulnerable to judgment. Every move is public. Every decision is second-guessed. And yet, in the midst of all that noise, Aguilar has chosen to focus on what he can control: how he practices, how he competes, and how he represents the program now that he’s here.
Whether or not Aguilar wins the starting job remains to be seen. The Vols have talented options and will likely keep the competition open deep into camp. But Aguilar’s words give us a glimpse into how he’ll approach the process. He’ll tune out the commentary. He’ll block out distractions. And he’ll focus on the people who matter—the ones in the locker room, in the meeting rooms, and on the sidelines.
This attitude could pay dividends for Tennessee. Programs thrive on culture, and culture is shaped by leaders—both vocal and quiet. Aguilar may not be the loudest player in the room, but when he speaks, it carries weight. His comment about “rat poison” wasn’t a throwaway line. It was a mission statement. He’s here to work, to compete, and to earn his place. And he wants no part of the noise.
If anything, Aguilar’s bluntness is refreshing. In a world where athletes are often trained to speak in clichés and avoid controversy, he’s chosen clarity over comfort. He’s chosen focus over flattery. And in doing so, he’s drawn attention not to himself, but to the process that lies ahead.
That process will unfold over the coming weeks. Fall camp will be a test not just of talent, but of consistency, maturity, and poise under pressure. Aguilar’s experience gives him an edge, but he’ll have to prove that he can operate Josh Heupel’s fast-paced offense with precision and authority. He’ll need to build chemistry with receivers, make quick reads, and avoid turnovers. And most importantly, he’ll need to lead—not just with his words, but with his actions.
For now, his message is simple. Ignore the noise. Focus on the work. Trust the people around you. That mindset may not guarantee success, but it creates the conditions for it. And in a sport as unpredictable and emotionally charged as college football, that’s no small thing.
Joey Aguilar didn’t come to Tennessee to impress pundits or win Twitter arguments. He came to compete. And if his first public words as a Volunteer are any indication, he intends to do just that—on his own terms, with clarity, conviction, and zero tolerance for distraction.
In a sport fueled by headlines, Aguilar is choosing something different. He’s choosing substance. Whether that leads him to the starting role or not, he’s already set a tone—and in doing so, he may have given Tennessee exactly the kind of leadership it needs heading into a pivotal season.
