Farewell, Old Friend

I’ve often thought about how my friends aren’t perfect. And I don’t really want them to be, actually. Who would want to have to live up to that?

“Hey, Chuck.”

“Hey there, Prescott Worthington III. What have you been up to?”

“Not much. I got home early from teaching that Calculus/Bikram Yoga class, so I just had enough time rebuild the tranny in my ’67 Camaro before I whipped up a soufflé for the little missus. She’s been working so hard since she won the MacArthur Genius Grant and I thought a little something sweet might be just the thing. And you?”

“uhhhhh… …same here. [under breath] Sonofabitch…”

Luckily, my friends aren’t like that. I’ve got this one friend. A big fella. Kind of a giant really. Some might consider this friend, well, a little funny looking. My friend can be loud, a little crazy, sometimes fickle and more than a little old fashioned. Oh yeah, and my friend used to smell like bat poop.

Who did you think I was talking about? I’m talking about Kyle Field.

I’ve been going to Kyle Field for not nearly as long as some of you. My relationship only goes back to 1992, but I’ve had a great time and as near as I can tell I’ve been to around 110 games there. After tomorrow Kyle Field will change forever. Nearly as soon as the final whistle blows they will begin to tear down this venerable football cathedral and they will replace it with “New and Improved Kyle Field.” I’m probably going to be a little nostalgic about the whole affair.

I already miss the horseshoe, DeWare and G. Rollie White. I’ll add Kyle Field to my list of missing buildings. I’ll miss the old rickety bleachers. I’ll remember mugging down at yell practice and still wish I had done more of it. We used to have all University night at Kyle, which I can’t describe here because I don’t want my kids to know about it, but that was fun. I don’t think I’ll miss the smell of bat poop or standing in a puddle of pee when I have to pee. Big bathrooms and wide concourses will be nice. The idea of shade, even if it’s for someone else, doesn’t sound too bad. So maybe it really will be better. But I still expect to be a little sad about my last visit to Kyle Field the way I knew her.

The one thing I hope to see from new Kyle Field is more winning. I like the heck out of winning and if this will make more winning happen then I’m all for it.

Last week we beat the crap out of, well, someone… oh yeah, UTEP. There’s not a lot to say about it. UTEP is bad and it showed. I won’t dwell on the game much, but it is worth noting that we held them to under 200 yards of total offense. The defense looked the way they should against an inferior team, which is saying something because a lot of times this year they haven’t.

This week we welcome to town the Mississippi State Bulldogs. We smacked them around pretty good last year. I hope to do it again this year. They are not a bad team, although their record is not stellar. They are physically very large in the trenches and they run the ball pretty well. We could have some trouble with them. I don’t think they’ll have an answer for the Manziel/Evans conundrum, and it could even be a blowout. I’m just expecting a hard fought game where we don’t beat the spread, but come out with a decent win and start getting ready for LSU after a week off.

I went looking for Mississippi State jokes on the internet and came up a little short. I think it’s telling that a google search for “Mississippi State Bulldogs” yielded only 3,020,000 results, but a search for “used toilet paper” yielded 41,000,000 results. Most of the jokes I found were standard fare. I found two that I liked and have included them below.

Q: What do a Mississippi State student and an Ole Miss student have in common?

A: They both got into State.

Q: Why are rectal thermometers banned at State?

A: They cause too much brain damage.

I know it’s low brow. I think, to steal a phrase from sports, I’m playing down to my competition. Sorry.

The tailgate should be really nice this weekend. The game is at 2:30, the weather will be good and the food should be solid (ribs, beans and French fries... and beer). Come on down and enjoy the afternoon. We’ll be looking for you.

Gig ‘em and Beat the Hell Outta Mississippi State!

- Chuck ‘96

 

All that and a side of Rice . . .

It's that time of year again. I've been doing this long enough and I'm bad enough at it that I can't even remember what I say from year to year. Hopefully the schtick isn't getting too tiresome. And if it is you can always just delete it, or automatically route me to your junk mail. Just don't tell me about it. I've put on a few pounds just here lately and I've been feeling a little self conscious. I've not been sleeping well worrying about whether or not Johnny has enough dough for new rims. It's a lot to have on your mind. A rejection on my writing, when I'm so close to the Pulitzer, might be more than I'm ready for.

This is the first time I can ever remember where we have a legitimate shot at a national championship. There are tough teams in the way, but I really think it could happen. I'm not saying it's likely by any stretch, but it's possible. If we beat Alabama on September 14ththe path looks a lot less daunting after that. Now, that's a big if. Alabama doesn't appear to have lost much from last year and I understand their singular focus this year is stopping Johnny Football.

But, none of that really matters at the moment. What matters now is that the NCAA has cleared Johnny Football to play this season after he serves a half game suspension for inadvertantly enabling an autograph broker to make money off his likeness or image. Go Johnny. Go Johnny' lawyers. Go figure?

Believe it or not, there are TWO football games we have to play before the rematch of the year takes place on September 14th. We have to get by Rice this weekend (12:00 PM - Kyle Field) and Sam Houston State next weekend. You can laugh off the Rice game, but don't forget we'll be missing three defensive starters for the game and JFF for half the game. I'm not suggesting that we'll lose. I mean the spread is -26.5. Vegas thinks we'll run away with it. But it might take a little more effort than some folks believe.

By the way, are you coming to the tailgate? We're hauling all that junk down there tomorrow. We're going to get set up early and be ready for folks by the thousands, ok hundreds, maybe dozens, hell I don't know, I can think of two people for sure. Figure on snacky stuff before the noon game and burgers and hot dogs after. And french fries. Lots of french fries.

I don't often ask for help, but if you've ever wanted ways to help out in addition to your continuing financial generosity (cough, cough...), we're kind of screwed on chairs. We've broken and thrown away more chairs than I can count and we're running out. Absolutely no one should feel obligated to do anything, but if you wanted to pick up one or two of those folding A&M chairs to help re-stock the supply (they only last for so long), that would be very helpful. If not, no worries. Tim and I worked out a deal where the pretty girls with no chairs could sit in my lap and the rest can sit in Tim's lap. And if that doesn't light your fire, you may consider the chair thing. And just to be clear, we'll view these chairs as very generous donations to the tailgate and you'll be appreciated forever, probably.

Other than that the only thing I'd like to say is how much I appreciate everyone who bothers to come hang out with us and bothers to read these emails. I know that I'm not JK Rowling and I'm certainly not Chef Emeril. We sincerely hope that everyone has fun with all of this Aggie Football stuff and, to the extent that we're able to help make that happen, we're just pleased to be part of it.

I promise to be back to my sarcastic humor failings next week, or maybe the week after that, maybe. I just can't shake the feeling that JFF is going to give me something else to lose sleep over.

Gig 'em and Beat the Hell Outta Rice, and that Rovell character that threw JFF under the bus! Seriously, if you see him, punch him in the nads for me.

- Chuck '96

10 Days . . .

My heart is aflutter and Chuck can barely sleep because . . .