The the months between Texas winning the BCS title and the enigma of a season that followed, many Longhorn fans were what I can only refer to as a real hot mess. Finally, we had a reason to be all of those things our rivals and critics had been calling us for years! Entitled...check! Arrogant? You betcha! Egotistical? Cocky? Annoying? Yes! Yes! Yes!
Now I'm not going to sit here and say that Longhorn football fans weren't those things during other seasons. We certainly can be...but in our defense, we can also be (reference seasons 1997 and 2010) dedicated and loyally masochistic. Not an entirely evil burnt orange nation.
But back to the hot mess. Horn fans were running around wildly adorned with our BCS Champions Hats and our rose embossed shirts. Champions! After all of the quarterback controversies and post season meltdowns, we had finally one the big one! We had beaten the golden team with the golden player who got the little golden trophy! We were the little (longhorn pulled) engines that could...and did.
One night in January, clad in burnt orange of course, myself, my sister Kacie and our friend Debra were cruising down Beltline in Addison, Texas in a mis-guided attempt to find a tattoo parlor that would not only tattoo us, but not kick us out. But that's a different story.
High off victories over Ohio State and Michigan, we felt we still retained bragging rights over these non-conference foes. After all, at that point, niether of them had beaten us in recent years. In the spirit of new and friendly rivalries, we'd even taken to joining in on their chants (O-H-I-O) and singing their fight songs (Hail to the Victors Valliant...) Unfortunately we'd also picked up another, less friendly habit....of mocking the town in which their school is located and calling it a whore.
Now, let's be fair. We learned this particular habit from the t-shirt of an Ohio State fan. And even if we hadn't: your town is named after a lady. All's fair in love and football. It didn't take Michigan too particularly long to adapt to the rocket-surgery insult that is throwing Horns down.
So I'll just say it. Anytime we saw a Michigan fan we would taunt them. "Ann Arbor is a whore!" We're very classy like that, and there's no excusing it. It doesn't help that just south of Dallas, on I-35 (the road from Dallas to Austin) there is an exit for a street named "Ann Arbor", causing us to ridiculously shout it when we pass by, even with nary a wolverine in sight.
Most victims of our classless mockery at least chuckle. Some act really offended and try to talk trash about Austin and how it's full of hippies (oh no! not hippies!). Others head straight for the jugular and insult our actual football team. At the very least, it generally sparks a lively college football discussion.
This particular night as we drove, who should we pull up next to? A true (maize and) blue MICHIGAN FAN. We were very excited to call his fair city a dirty name. We gazed at the car with Michigan plates, a Michigan Alum sticker, and a Wolverine logo. We peered into the tinted windows and what did we see? A Michigan Wolverines Hat! And T-shirt! It was AMAZING!
Feeling hilarious, we were so excited as Debra made the international sign for 'roll down your window' after rolling down her own. This red light was going to be the best red light ever!! Wolverine rolled down his window. We looked at each other excitedly! Who was going to say it? How was he going to react? How awesome are we?! Like I said before, hot mess.
Being unable to communicate through our excitement we all yelled almost at the same time "Ann Arbor is a WHORE!" then burst into uncontrollable giggling. Wolverine looked at us, confused. Debra, taking the lead, assumed he couldn't understand us since we had all shouted at once. In an effort to make sure Wolverine was in on the joke, she slowed it down. "Ann Arbor is a whore," she said very calmly as Kacie and I snickered at our cleverness.
But Wolverine continued to stare blank faced at us. Debra slowed it down even more, as if she was speaking to a third grader or a USC Trojan. "Ann ... Arbor? (head nod, as if to signal recognition of words) ... is a .... whore (more nodding)?" At this point the three of us have stopped laughing and we're the ones with the confused looks on our faces.
What happened next still perplexes me. The Wolverine - in his wolverine car and his wolverine shirt and his wolverine hat - was still looking at us like we were aliens or possibly mentally challenged (ok, that last part is fair), when he finally opened his mouth to speak: "Who's Ann Arbor?"
Without a word, Debra rolled up the window as we found ourselves immediately sober and frankly, a little sad. Mercifully the light changed and we were able to leave the situation immediately.
People might call Longhorn fans arrogant, egotistical and entitled. Which we may be. But at least we know in what city you can find our home stadium.
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