In the glittering world of reality television talent shows, where dreams are made and shattered in the blink of an eye, few stories capture the raw essence of perseverance quite like that of 25-year-old Ryan Mitchell. On the premiere night of “The Voice” Season 28, Mitchell stepped onto the stage with hope in his heart and a guitar in his hands, only to face the crushing silence of unturned chairs. But in a twist that would etch his name into the show’s history, host Carson Daly intervened with the inaugural “Carson Callback,” granting Mitchell a second shot at stardom. What followed was a performance that not only turned heads but left country legend Reba McEntire in utter shock, her jaw dropping as she realized the familiar face behind the voice. This emotional rollercoaster, filled with tears, triumphs, and a rock-infused Britney Spears classic, reminds us all that sometimes, the greatest comebacks are born from the deepest disappointments.
Ryan Mitchell’s journey to “The Voice” is one steeped in personal struggle and unyielding passion for music. Born and raised in a modest Midwestern town—though he now calls Los Angeles home—Mitchell’s early life was marked by challenges that could have derailed anyone’s ambitions. From a young age, he found solace in melodies, picking up a guitar as a teenager and channeling his emotions into songwriting. But life threw curveballs his way. Mitchell has openly shared his battle with substance abuse, a dark period that saw him living on the streets, scraping by with odd jobs and busking for spare change. “Music was my lifeline,” Mitchell reflected in a post-audition interview. “It pulled me out of the abyss when nothing else could.” His recovery journey was arduous, involving rehab stints and the unwavering support of his family, particularly his father, who became his biggest cheerleader. This backstory isn’t just fodder for dramatic TV—it’s the fuel that ignited Mitchell’s fire to pursue a career in music professionally.
By his early twenties, Mitchell had honed his craft in the gritty underbelly of L.A.’s music scene. He performed at dive bars, open mics, and even released a few independent tracks on streaming platforms, blending alt-rock edges with pop sensibilities. His voice, characterized by a gravelly timbre and impressive control, drew comparisons to artists like Chris Cornell and Eddie Vedder. Yet, despite local buzz, breaking into the big leagues proved elusive. “I’ve faced rejection before,” Mitchell admitted. “But ‘The Voice’ felt like my shot at something real.” Auditioning for the show was a leap of faith, one that required months of preparation, vocal coaching, and soul-searching. He chose to audition with “Cigarette Daydreams” by Cage The Elephant, a song that mirrored his introspective style and personal experiences of longing and resilience.
The first blind audition aired on September 22, 2025, and it was a moment etched in tension. As the lights dimmed and the band kicked in, Mitchell poured his heart into the performance. His voice soared with power, navigating the song’s melancholic verses and explosive choruses with apparent ease. The coaches—Reba McEntire, Niall Horan, Snoop Dogg, and Michael Bublé—listened intently, their chairs facing away as per the show’s iconic format. Whispers of approval floated among them; Horan nodded appreciatively, noting the “raw emotion,” while Snoop praised the “vibe.” But as the final notes faded, no buttons were pressed. The chairs remained steadfastly turned. Mitchell’s face, broadcast in high definition, crumpled in disappointment. The audience held its collective breath.
Post-performance feedback was bittersweet. McEntire, ever the gracious mentor, commented, “You’ve got power and control, darlin’, but I was waitin’ for a bit more range to really hook me.” Horan echoed the sentiment, encouraging Mitchell to “come back stronger.” Bublé added, “There’s talent there—don’t stop.” Snoop kept it real: “You got that fire, but it didn’t quite ignite for me today.” Mitchell, fighting back tears, thanked them politely before exiting the stage. Backstage, the weight of the moment hit him hard. “It felt like my world ended right there,” he later confessed. “All that buildup, and poof—gone.” His family, watching from the wings, enveloped him in hugs, but the sting of rejection lingered.
Enter Carson Daly, the longtime host whose role has evolved from mere emcee to guardian angel for overlooked talents. For Season 28, producers introduced the “Carson Callback,” a groundbreaking twist allowing Daly to grant one artist per season a 24-hour window to prepare a new song and audition again. This wasn’t just a gimmick; it was a nod to the show’s history of near-misses, where promising singers slipped through the cracks only to return triumphant in later seasons. Daly, having witnessed 28 seasons of such heartbreaks, saw something special in Mitchell. “In 28 seasons, I’ve seen coaches let great singers like yourself fall through the cracks sometimes, and I’ve never been able to do anything about it until right now,” Daly told a stunned Mitchell backstage. Handing him the golden card, Daly instructed: “Ryan, this is the Carson Callback Card. You’re just too good to let go. Pick a new song. You have 24 hours to prepare for this second and last chance.”
The moment was electric. Mitchell’s eyes widened in disbelief, his hands trembling as he clutched the card. “I’m beyond grateful and stoked and ready to get back up there, man,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. His father, beaming with pride, declared, “This is going to be the greatest comeback story of all time.” The family huddled, brainstorming song choices. Mitchell knew he needed something bold, something that showcased the range the coaches felt was missing. After hours of deliberation, he settled on a risky pivot: a rock rendition of Britney Spears’ “…Baby One More Time.” It was a gamble—transforming a pop bubblegum hit into an alt-rock anthem—but it symbolized his plea for “one more time” on the stage. “Carson gave me such an amazing opportunity, and I really wanna show him that I am not taking it for granted. I want to make him proud,” Mitchell shared.
The next 24 hours were a whirlwind of rehearsals. Mitchell practiced relentlessly, tweaking arrangements, warming up his vocals, and drawing on his past hardships for emotional depth. Sleep was minimal; adrenaline fueled him. “I felt like I was fighting for my life,” he recalled. His support system rallied—friends sent encouraging texts, family offered pep talks. As the clock ticked down, nerves mounted. Would this be redemption or repeated heartbreak?
September 23, 2025, brought the second audition, and the tension was palpable. The stage lights gleamed once more as Mitchell took his position, guitar strapped on, heart pounding. The band launched into the familiar intro, but Mitchell’s version was unrecognizable at first—edgy guitars, a gritty vocal delivery that infused the teen pop staple with raw intensity. He belted out the lyrics with fervor: “Oh baby, baby, how was I supposed to know…” The coaches grooved in their seats, intrigued by the fresh take. Horan tapped his foot, Bublé smiled knowingly, Snoop bobbed his head, and McEntire leaned forward, captivated. Yet, for an agonizing verse and chorus, no one turned. The audience fidgeted; Mitchell’s voice wavered slightly under the pressure, but he pushed through, hitting high notes with newfound range.
Then, in a moment that sent shockwaves through the studio, Reba McEntire slammed her button. Her chair spun around, revealing Mitchell mid-performance. As the song climaxed, the other coaches turned as well, their faces registering confusion, then recognition, then pure astonishment. “What in the world?” Horan exclaimed. Bublé laughed in disbelief. Snoop grinned widely. But it was McEntire’s reaction that stole the show. Her eyes widened, hand flying to her mouth. “I thought I was having déjà vu or something. You looked so familiar… weren’t you just here? I’m like, ‘I’m losing my mind!'” she blurted out, her Oklahoma drawl thick with surprise. The studio erupted in applause as Mitchell finished, tears streaming down his face.
The emotional floodgates opened. McEntire, still processing, continued: “I’m thrilled to death because you are a great singer. Welcome to The Voice.” Mitchell, overcome, dropped to his knees in gratitude before joining Team Reba. Daly explained the Callback to the coaches, who applauded the innovation. “This is why we do this show,” Bublé said. “Second chances change lives.” Backstage, Mitchell embraced his family, sobs of relief mingling with laughter. “It was surreal,” he said. “Seeing Reba’s face—that shock mirrored my own joy.”
This wasn’t just a win for Mitchell; it was a testament to the human spirit. His story resonates deeply in a world where failure often feels final. From street survival to stage triumph, Mitchell embodies resilience. “I’ve been knocked down before, but getting up is what defines you,” he philosophized. Joining Team Reba opens doors—mentorship from a country icon, potential collaborations, and a platform to share his music with millions.
As “The Voice” Season 28 unfolds, eyes are on Mitchell. Will he advance through battles and knockouts? Regardless, his comeback has already inspired countless viewers. In his words: “If I can turn my life around, anyone can.” Reba’s shock? Priceless. Mitchell’s future? Limitless.
The episode sparked social media frenzy, with fans dubbing it “the most emotional audition ever.” Clips of McEntire’s reaction went viral, amassing millions of views overnight. Critics praised the Callback as a fresh twist, injecting heart into the format. For Mitchell, it’s the start of a new chapter. He’s already planning original releases, drawing from his experiences. “Music saved me; now I want to save others with it.”
Reflecting on the journey, Mitchell’s gratitude shines. “To Carson, the coaches, my family—thank you for believing when I doubted.” His story underscores a universal truth: sometimes, the path to success detours through failure. In the end, Ryan Mitchell didn’t just get a chair turn; he turned the tables on destiny itself.
