Howdy,
I’m unsure how this Substack will function or how I should begin my latest musings. I will play along with some intros before I land on something that I can TM. I’m building my brand, people, and this type — gestures wildly — of wit and insight cannot be built overnight.
In my previous installment of GCV (an acronym, I love it), I promised I would dive into politics, Trump, and how the greatest POTUS in the history of the universe — many people are saying this, by the way — came to power.
But. . . .
I got distracted publishing my first piece — Clears Throat — as a Military Affairs Fellow at the Bulwark. Here’s the link. Go ahead and give it a read.
I’ll wait.
Need some more time? No problem. I’m retired. I can sit around all day — yes, you should still THANK ME FOR MY SERVICE.
Go ahead, finish up.
Pretty impressive, eh? Or at least mildly insightful? Ok, did it at least make you think? BOOM. Victory.
Also, I’m currently writing about the contestant who was formerly part of the great band “Axis of Evil” —and of course, I’m talking about Iran (wild applause).
Thus, I’m a bit tired of writing about such serious subjects. I promise I’ll get back to Trump. I have a feeling he’ll be in the news for eternity the next few months.
So, let’s talk pigskin. Football, baby! Woohoo! As a Texan, I was raised to love the sport. Sure, I “played” in high school (sticks chest out) somewhere between the right and middle of the bench. I would've been a star if I had been bigger, stronger, faster, and more athletic!
But what I lacked for any natural athletic ability, I made up for in being a super fan. Ah, the late 80s and early 90s, the halcyon days of my football life.
Although I grew up in Austin, Texas, I became a rabid Texas A&M football fan. My sister was an Aggie, and there was something about the school that I fell in love with. It’s a cult, for sure. But we’re proud of our bizarre traditions, and no, we don’t want cheerleaders (the last part is a lie, by the way).
Anyway, it was the golden age of Aggie football. Jackie Sherril, hallowed be thy name, took us to national prominence. We routinely won the Southwest Conference (SWC 4 Life) or were a perennial top 10 program. His successor, RC Slocum, got us tantalizing close to the promised land.
Although I favor college football, I’m still an NFL fan. I grew up a Chicago Bears fan, probably because of Ditka, the Fridge, McMahon, and Walter Payton (teardrop). But, eventually, I became a Dallas Cowboys fan because I love America, and why wouldn’t you love America’s team?
Do you know why there’s a hole in Texas Stadium? So G*d could watch his favorite team, you atheist.
And boy, the 90s were a good time to be a Cowboys fan. The Cowboys had their training camp in Austin, Texas. I spent my youth hounding Cowboys for their autograph while my brother worked as a sports writer. Give him a read. He’s great.
It was a time of Jimmy Johnson, Emmitt Smith, Michael Irvin, Troy Aikman, Charles Haley, Kevin Smith (Aggie - who just got inducted into the CGFB HoF, mofos).
It was beautiful. I just figured this is what my life would be like. Winning. Football.
I was spoiled. I admit it. I mocked other fans. I felt superior.
Whatever I did, I want the good Lord to know that I’m sorry because the living hell that I’m currently enduring is torture. It’s uncivilized.
Dear Football Gods, please have mercy!
In case you’re not aware, A&M football has been a bit of a shitshow — that’s a football term—for the last (counts on hand) ten or twenty years? Yeah, we had Johnny Fucking Football and that sweet, sweet 2020 football season, but other than that?
Nothing. We won the Big 12 in 1998. That was the last conference championship. We haven’t won the whole thing since 1939 — bruh, we hadn’t even entered WWII yet.
We’ve suffered through Dennis Franchione, Mike Sherman, Kevin Sumlin, and —- wait for it, wait for it — Jimbo’s legacy of humiliation.
My usual response to people poking at me about Jimbo is to say, “It must suck to be poor.” And then to take pride in our full embrace of capitalism.
Aggies love money. We love making it. And we don’t put up with none of that freakn’ socialism, you hear? We are the school that helped bring you fracking!
Oh, shut up, Hippie, you know you love it.
You know what else it brought us — Appalachian State. We lost to freakn’ Appalachian State when we were— checks notes — the #6 ranked team in the country!?!??!?!?!
In 2008, I returned home from Afghanistan to catch an Aggie game. We had a new coach —thanks, Sherman— so I figured it would be a challenging year. So I glanced at the calendar and thought, “Hmmm, Arkansas State. That’s a gimme.”
WRONG.
I flew home from war to see the Aggies get humiliated. I haven’t seen the Aggies win a football game against a legitimate opponent since 2019. This year, I drove to see A&M play Miami. We lost. Last year, I drove to see them play at South Carolina and Auburn - nope. Double Ls, my friend.
I could go on and dog pile on the Cowboys, but since only red blooded Americans read this here Substack, I’ll spare you the details. In short, we blew it, have blown it, and will continue to blow it for the foreseeable future.
Until, inshallah, one day, the agony will stop.
My wife, the lovely Charity, is experiencing a golden age in sports. As a Kansan, she’s obviously a die-hard Chiefs fan. Even though Taylor Swift is a total deep-state operation designed in a secret, underground lab in the CIA’s basement, I root for the Chiefs—but not Patrick Mahomes because he went to that dastardly school, Texas Tech. (I don’t care what you tell me; my logic is sound).
I enjoy watching her and her incredible family revel in a dynasty run. While KCMO is far too cold for my likn’, being a part of a city amid a once-in-a-century sports run is fun. Everyone is out and about in Chiefs gear.
It’s fun. I’m happy for everyone. Truly.
Sports is one of the very few things left in this country that can unite large groups of people. Nobody in KC cares about your politics right now. Everyone is far too busy enjoying the Chiefs, especially Taylor Swift’s boyfriend, who I hear is a fairly decent football player.
Sports is supposed to be fun. And few things in life are more fun than winning.
And, no, President Trump, I’m not tired of winning because I haven’t won in forever!
Being an Aggie and Cowboys fan is not for the meek of heart. It feels like the longest of long shots that either team will ever turn it around. But, hell, I’m an Iraq and Afghan combat veteran — I’ve grown accustomed to hopeless causes.
Most things in life that are worth enjoying involve some pain; fandom should be no different, I suppose.
Until my day comes, I’ll remain a diehard Aggie, always willing to saddle up and ride because there’s always next year.
As the tribe says, next year in Jerusalem.
Well, next year, in the college football playoffs.
Inshallah.
Truly bright and funny. I laughed with a few moments of sighing being also an Aggie fan. There is of course my degrees from UT we sweep deeply under the rug. And I love me some Cowboys but even Westlake High School football came up with an L this year. When all else fails I fall back on the most important one thing—
At Least I’m from Texas You’ll. And I know all is right. God Bless Texas .
I see the humor! Being an Auburn fan is much like that of a Texas A&M fan. I’m a Chief’s fan because my Harper loves Taylor Swift. There could he a better reason but I can’t think of it. Keep writing.