The Quarterback Controversy: You Decide

I’ve wanted to write about the 1999-2001 Quarterback Controversy at Texas for a long time, but have hesitated because I feel I am so clearly biased. I am possibly Major Applewhite’s biggest fan. I adore him and think he was a fabulous and underrated college quarterback. He always had his head in the game, he was a student of the game, he was a coach on the field, a leader. He was the physical underdog, the quarterback who played with his head and not his arm. When the team won, Major always talked about the “we” in his post-game interviews. When they lost, he talked about the “I”. When he graduated, I, like many Longhorns, waited for his return to Texas as a coach.

I always felt like Chris Simms was everything that Major Applewhite was not. He was an “I” when they were winning and a “we” when they were losing. A classically built quarterback with an arm like a gun, he never quite caught on to the nuances that a good player needs to have to be a great quarterback. Defenses could read him like a book.  I don't know many people that can forget the image of Simms on the sidelines in the 3rd quarter of the 2001 Big XII Championship game, shooting the breeze and laughing with some 3rd string player while Major cleaned up his mess on the field.  I know he was just a kid, and I know all the things that happened in that game weren't his fault, but in that moment, I wanted him to be as mad and as focused on the game as I was.

I'm sure both Major and Chris were good guys. I heard stories about how nice they each were to other students and the work they did in the community. Certainly when it comes down to it, Simms got a raw deal from Texas fans – and I can admit to being a part of that. Non-Texas fans are outraged that Longhorns sided with Major unwaveringly – but they weren’t there week after week as it was happening.

I decided it was time to put away my biases and try to find out the truth – could I unravel the mystery of the quarterback controversy?  The facts and figures you're about to read came mostly from ESPN.com, Rivals.com, ncaafootball.com and Mackbrown-texasfootball.com.  I cross checked all of the sources and looked at play-by-play transcripts of each game from 1998-2002. 

While researching this post, I ran across several other blogs that talk about the great debate. Most of them read along the same lines as this one from Sports Nickel: http://www.opposingviews.com/i/the-truth-about-major-applewhite-chris-simms

Sports Nickel (and most others that have taken the time to actually write about the fiasco) feels that Texas fans are blind to the truth, and that “statistically speaking” Simms was the superior quarterback. So, Sports Nickel. Let’s break it down:

The first few paragraphs of the article basically outlines that Texas fans hate Chris Simms. He also indicates that it’s a baseless hatred: Major Applewhite, Texas’ golden boy, unsung hero/underdog whose position was taken from him by the big bad Debo that is Christopher David Simms. Why? Why was such a legend’s position taken from him and replaced by an inferior talent? He goes on to point out that Simms could have gone to any school he wanted, but he chose Texas So here you are, in Austin, expectations of late have been heavy and you are expected to win at all cost. Failure is not an option. You will be held to the said expectations and if you fail to achieve them, then you are subject to boo’s, mistreatment and the harshest of ridicule, unless your name is Major.

Sports Nickel then talks for awhile about why Texas fans hate Chris Simms – he even posted the question on his Facebook page and used some of the responses in his article, noting None of these opinions are ones I have not heard before, some may be valid, and some may not. Lets explore them a little more in depth. Yes, Facebook.  A place of rational people posting well thought out opinions.

Ah ha. Now we get into it: “the facts”. Oh, wait, before we get into “the facts”, Sports Nickel states his opinions that 1) Mack Brown was not influenced by Phil Simms and 2) Major Applewhite is an opportunist who thrives on the role of backup/savior. Since opinions can’t really be proven either way, I’m not going to get into that, except to say that I agree with Sports Nickel that Mack Brown didn’t make a deal with the devil or Phil Simms. As for the martyr issue, even if it were true, Major was just playing the hand he was dealt. I’m sure he would have preferred to play the role of starting quarterback. In the words of Holloway, “It is what it is and whatnot.”

Now let’s look at “the facts” Sports Nickel presents:

In 1998 Texas finished 9-3 and finished ranked 16th
Applewhite: 174/299 for 2678 yards, 58% comp, 21 TD’s and 11 Int’s.

Major had a very decent season for a freshman, but nothing great about it. That season included losses to #6 UCLA (Major did not play), #5 Kansas State and unranked Texas Tech. Texas finished 2nd in the Big 12 South. Now keep in mind, this is a team that had a Heisman winning season from Ricky and at that time the most prolific WR corp. Texas has ever seen, a corp. that included Wane McGarity and Kwame Kavil. Seems like there were some “BIG” games lost in that season. 

Fact check: Major did play in the UCLA game - in fact the offense scored in the only possession he played.

In 1999 Texas finished 9-5 and ranked 23rd

Applewhite: 271/467 for 3,349 (286/494 for 3478), 58% comp, 21 TD’s, 9 Int’s, Fumbles 9-5

*Simms: 28/55 for 314, 50% comp, 2 TD’s, 2 Int’s, 2-2 Fumbles

Major, again had a decent season. Not a great season. Texas lost to NC State, #13 Kansas State, A&M, Nebraska and Arkansas that year. So again, a disappointing season, most seem to have suppressed from their memory.

*And, are we forgetting that Mr. Simms played in a few of these games as well? I added his stats. In fact, let’s check out Simms vs. Applewhite in 1999:

Yes, Texas did lose to Nebraska in the BIG XII Championship (did Sports Nickel forget to mention that Texas was #1 in the Big XII South? He mentioned that in 1998 we were #2 in the Big XII South, that’s weird. He also mentions later that Simms led the 2001 team to a conference championship game.)

In 2000 Texas finished 9-3 and ranked 12th

Applewhite: 152/279 for 2,164 yards, 54% (55%) comp, 18 TD’s, 7 Int’s, 7-3 Fumbles
Simms: 84/150 for 1,309 yards, 56% comp, 9 TD’s, 14 Int’s, 0-0 Fumbles

2000, perhaps was the most disappointing of the 3 seasons Major started, with losses to unranked Stanford (at home) and a 14-63 loss to OU. Texas was once again shut out of national and conference Championship play.

So there it is. Almost three full seasons Major started. Most of his losses were to ranked teams. So why is there not the same criticism of Major? He could not win a “BIG” game. Is it because his dad was not famous enough? Like Simms, he was human and in the grand scheme of football, wasn’t drastically better as a player.

Let’s look closer: In the 2000 Season: Applewhite was not "the starter" in fact; Simms* (his stats were added by me) started 6 of the 11 games. When both quarterbacks played in a game, Simms and Applewhite were rotated as often as every other possession. There was not a "starter" that season, as spoken by Mack Brown himself: ''You might as well not ask, I'm not going to say anything about next week.''

Of the 8 games where both quarterbacks played, Chris Simms led the offense to score 8 of their touchdown drives. Major Applewhite led 23. Applewhite led the offense to score touchdowns 31% of the times he played in a possession Simms led the offense to score touchdowns 25% of the times he played in a possession.

Applewhite played in only 3 possessions more than Simms in the 2000 season, yet made 86% more pass attempts, had 81% more completions and 66% more total yards. He also had twice as many touchdowns. Applewhite did have 7 fumbles, 3 for turnovers to Simms’ zero. Still, Simms errors turned the ball over by 40% more than Applewhite's.

Suddenly that 1% better completion rate isn’t convincing me that Simms was the better quarterback.

In 2001 Texas finished 11-2 and ranked 5th
Simms: 214/362 for 2,603 yards, 59% (60%) comp, 22 (29) TD’s, 11 Int’s, 5-2 Fumbles
*Applewhite: 66/101 for 852 yards, 66% comp, 8 TD’s, 1 Int’s, 1-0 Fumbles

In 2001 Texas’ had its first 11-win season since 1983. So the only loss in the regular season Chris Simms first full year as starter was to OU, 14-3. A game decided by one of the most outstanding individual plays by then OU safety Roy Williams. True, Simms had a horrid game against Colorado but seeing as he led Texas to its best season in almost 20years, I think it was ridiculous he got booed the way he did. Most people site this game as a reason to despise him. What people don’t realize, we would have never been in this game if not for Simms.

Yeah, I don’t think most Texas fans are super ‘grateful’ that Simms “got us” to a Big XII Championship Game and then completely melted down in it, blowing a shot at the BCS Championship Game. As for that OU game...if Simms had been able to lead the offense to score, I would have felt a lot better about Simms’ performance. Let us enjoy the above statistical box.....Hmmmm.

In 2002 Texas finished 11-2 and ranked 7th

235/396 for 3,207 yards, 59% comp. 26 TD’s and 12 ints

So Simms again helps Texas to its 2nd 11 win season in a row and only loss to OU and Texas Tech. Tech was unranked – I only bring it up because Sports Nickel brought it up regarding Major’s season without Simms.

Amazing! Simms won more and was able to do something 20 years of QB’s at Texas could not. Win 11 games in a season. He also lead teams that finished ranked no lower than 7th in the nation (except for that pesky 2000 season when Major and Simms split starting and playing time almost evenly), pretty damn decent if you ask me. Check out the 2002 graphic:

This Sports Nickel guy is cracking me up. Sadly, when I first read this article, I started to think... “wow, Simms really did a great job at Texas. I was really wrong.”

Then I realized that all of his statistics were simply numbers pulled out of other, bigger statistics to make Simms appear to be a better quarterback than Applewhite.

Now, I particularly enjoy this next part of the article, where Sports Nickel talks about some random Chris Simms’ records and none of Applewhite’s. Let’s have some record/awards comparison fun:

*In 2001 Simms lead Texas to its first 11-win season since 1983 This really isn’t an individual record or statistic, but okay. Gosh, what are those words coming into my mind? Sloan, BJ, Cedric, Roy, Montrell, Jammer, Tubbs, Vasher, Huff, Bo…Aaaand, Texas’s D led the nation in 2001 in total Defense.

*Simms held the Texas school record for highest Career Pass Efficiency (138.4) till surpassed by someone we all can love Colt McCoy. Yes, that means he was a more efficient passer that Major. No other way to say this. I can’t confirm or refute this...but! I forgot to stick in my TOTAL COMPARISON TABLE! Here it is....you decide for yourself who the most effiecient quarterback was:

* Simms has the 4rd (what is a 4rd?) best winning % behind only Colt, VY and Bobby Layne. Yes, Simms won more and lost less that Major. Again, I feel like this isn’t an individual stat, award or record, but that’s cool. 

*Simms ranks 2nd in career touchdowns, behind only Major. So they were very close in this respect. Aaaand, Major was better. And Colt was even bester. I’m not sure where this stat came from. I’m confused....

*2nd most TD in a single season behind Colt and tied with VY. Yes, Simms had one of the most prolific scoring seasons in Texas history. This is true-ish. To phrase it fairly, it would be “ranked 4th, tied with VY in single season passing TD’s. Colt holds the top three individual records. Also, does he know what prolific means? Dan Marino – prolific. Simms? Uh, no.

* In their careers, only 2 TD passes separate Colt and Chris for total TD passes. Yeah, this is completely false. Colt had 112 career TD passes, Simms had 58. Applewhite had 60. Could he have meant Applewhite?

Being the fair and unbiased, great researcher that I am, if I was going to compare the records and awards of the two quarterbacks, I would do it this way:

Bowl Game Records – The University of Texas

*Major Applewhite – Most passing yards in a bowl game, 473 – 2001 Holiday
*Major Applewhite – Most touchdown passes in a bowl game, 4 – 2001 Holiday
*Major Applewhite – Most total offense in a bowl game, 476 – 2001 Holiday
*Major Applewhite – #1 200 yard passer in a bowl game, 37-55-473-4 – 2001 Holiday
  Chris Simms - #5 200 yard passer in a bowl game, 15-28-269-2 – 2003 Cotton
  Chris Simms - #8 200 yard passer in a bowl game, 17-33-245-0 – 2000 Holiday
  Major Applewhite - #9 200 yard passer in a bowl game, 15-26-225-3 – 1999 Cotton

Individual Scoring Records – The University of Texas
*Major Applewhite - #1 Longest scoring play, 97 yards – 1998 vs Oklahoma
  Major Applewhite - #2 Longest scoring play, 96 yards – 2000 vs Oklahoma State
  Chris Simms - #6 Longest scoring play, 92 yards – 2001 at Houston
  Chris Simms - #16 Longest scoring play, 84 yards – 2002 at Texas Tech
  Major Applewhite - #18 Longest scoring play, 80 yards – 1999 vs NC State
Individual Total Offense Records – The University of Texas
*Major Applewhite - #4 Total offense, single game, 476 yards – 2001 vs Washington
  Chris Simms - #9 Total offense, single game, 411 yards – 2002 vs Nebraska
*Major Applewhite - #5 Total offense, single season, 3,211yards – 1999
  Chris Simms - #7 Total offense, single season, 3,083 – 2002
*Major Applewhite - #3 Total offense, career, 8,059 yards, 1998-2001
  Chris Simms - #6 Total offense, career, 6,960 yards, 1999-2002

Individual Passing Records – The University of Texas
*Major Applewhite - #1 200 yard passing game, 473/37-55 – 2001 vs Washington
  Chris Simms - #3 200 yard passing game, 419/29-47 – 2002 vs Nebraska
*Major Applewhite - #3 Single season passing yards, 3,357 – 1999
  Chris Simms - #5 Single season passing yards, 3,207 – 2002
*Major Applewhite - #1 First to 2,000 passing yards, 7 games – 1999
  Major Applewhite - #2 (tie) First to 2,000 passing yards, 8 games, 2000
  Chris Simms - #5 (tie) First to 2,000 passing yards, 9 games – 2002 & 2001
*Major Applewhite - #1 (tie) First to 1,000 passing yards, 4 games – 1999 & 2000
  Chris Simms - #7 (tie) First to 1,000 passing yards, 5 games – 2001 & 2002
*Major Applewhtie - #2 Career passing yards, 8,353 – 1998-2001
  Chris Smms - #5 Career passing yards, 7,097 – 1999-2002
*Chris Simms - #4 Career victories as a quarterback, 26-6 – 1999-2002
  Major Applewhite - #8 Career victories as a quarterback, 22-8 – 1998-2001
*Major Applewhite - #2 Single season passing attempts, 467 – 1999
*Major Applewhite - #2 Career passing attempts, 1,065 – 1998-2001
  Chris Simms - #5 Career passing attempts, 911 – 1999-2002
*Major Applewhite - #4 Single season completions, 271 – 1999
*Major Applewhite - #2 Career completions, 611 – 1998-2001
  Chris Simms - #5 Career completions, 535, 1999-2002
*Major Applewhite - #1 Consecutive passes without an interception, 156 – 1999
  Major Applewhite - #2 Consecutive passes without an interception, 138 - 1999
  Major Applewhite - #1 Lowest career % of intercepted passes, 2.6 – 1998-2001
*Chris Simms - #4 (tied) Single season touchdown passes, 26 – 2002
*Major Applewhite - #2 Career touchdown passes, 60 – 1998-2001
  Chris Simms - #3 Career touchdown passes – 58 – 1999 – 2002
*Major Applewhite - #1 Most consecutive 200 yard games, season, 11 – 1999
*Major Applewhite - #1 Most consecutive 200 yard games, career, 21 – 1998-1999

Individual Freshman Records – The University of Texas
*Major Applewhite - #2 Most victories by a Freshman quarterback, 8 – 1998
*Major Applewhite - #1 Most passing yards by a freshman, single game, 408 -1998
*Major Applewhite - #2 Most Passing yards in a freshman season, 2,453 - 1998
*Major Applewhite - #3 (tie) Most TD passes as a freshman, game, 4 – 1998 at Tech
*Major Applewhite - #2 Most TD passes in a freshman season, 18 – 1998
*Major Applewhite - #1 Most completions by a freshman, game, 29 – 1998
*Major Applewhite - #1 Longest play by a freshman, 97 yards – 1998

Awards and Honors
*Major Applewhite – Big XII Offensive Freshman of the Year – 1998
  Major Applewhite – Big XII Offensive Player of the Year – 1999
*Major Applewhite – AP Offensive Player of the Year – 1999
*Major Applewhite – AP Team – 2nd team QB – 1998
  Major Applewhite – AP Team – 1st team QB – 1999
  Chris Simms – AP Team – Honorable Mention – 2002

*Major Applewhite – Big XII Team – 1st team QB – 1999
  Chris Simms – Big XII Team – 3rd team QB – 2001
  Chris Simms – Big XII Team – 3rd team QB – 2002
*Chris Simms – Longhorn Season MVP – 2002
*Major Applewhite – Longhorn Captain – 2001
  Chris Simms – Longhorn Captain - 2002
*Major Applewhite – Offensive MVP – Holiday Bowl 200
*Major Applewhite – Holiday Bowl Hall of Fame – 2011 (for 2001 game)

Sports Nickel wraps it all up with this fabulous, fact based gem:

It’s debatable who was the best QB while at Texas; numbers tend to supports Simms slightly (Which numbers?). It’s not as clear-cut as everyone makes it seem. This is a TEAM sport where things on the field happen we just cannot know about. Lets also remember Major had a serious knee injury which ultimately lead to Chris taking over (not in the 2000 season, both were healthy). It was not his Dad, it was not money or some great big whimsical conspiracy theory, it was practice and Simms being a very decent football player.
I decided to write this because the hate for Chris Simms is totally unwarranted (you know what’s annoying? When your quarterback scores and holds up his #1 finger and not his horns. That’s just one reason I know a lot of people disliked him). If you look at Texas passing records Simms is top 3 in most (wrong) and is one of the most prolific passers in Texas history (also wrong – he’s not even the most prolific passer in this article). This alone should demand respect. I’ve heard stories of frat idiots pelting his car with beer cups (um, I don’t think that was exclusive to Chris Simms, I think some frat guys will throw beer cups at just about anything), the Big 12 Championship game where he was booed (Yes, I did this, and I'm ashamed. I did this, but I was really booing Mack Brown). I think its about time we show a this Texas great the respect he deserves. (Huh?)
I hope this article has helped you change your whole thought process of what you think happened in those “QB controversy” years. (It made me do a lot of research to expose your biased fact reporting) One thing is for sure; everyone has an opinion on this topic.

Well, he’s actually gotten one thing right, everyone has an opinion. As an aside, can anyone just print whatever they want on the internet and call it fact? 

I did my best to accurately compare the two QB’s, not only looking at starts and wins, but possessions played and TD drives led. It was hard to be objective, and I found it interesting how close the two actually were statistically.

But what statistics don’t show are things like complete meltdowns and emotional rallies. I don’t know many people that were true game-watching fans that would have chosen Simms over Applewhite if the decision was theirs – that has to speak to something.

So now you know what I know about the Simms/Applewhite quarterback controversy....but keep an eye out for my upcoming “all things Major” post, where there are no facts and all opinions.

Colt McCoy's Wife

This post needs only one word:

"Shhhhhhh......"

The Injury

While rehashing the nightmare of the 2001 Big XII Championship game and Chris Simms' "finger injury", I couldn't help but think about the sweet little day porter that used to work at one of my properties. 

Suprisingly enough, when I'm not having Football Girl adventures, you can usually find me at my job, which is managing commercial real estate. 

There's something to be said about a Property Manager.  It's a fairly thankless job.  If you're a bad Property Manager, tenants hate you, are constantly annoyed at you and call angrily and often about all the things you are doing badly.  If you're good at it, tenants only call you when something is wrong and they want you to fix it.  Either way, generally tenants aren't calling their Property Managers up to shoot the breeze and tell them how smoothly office life is going.

To summarize, a good Property Manager - much like hot water - is something you don't even think about until there is a problem.

A couple of years ago, I was working in the management office on-site at one of my properties.  My boss was at lunch and I was in the office alone when a nice accounting lady from one of the 11th floor offices came down with a question about her rent statement. 

This particular 11th floor tenant was widely known throughout the building for having a rude, irrational and downright mean office manager.  We'll call her "Laura."  Laura constantly screamed at everyone who didn't read her mind.  She also berated anyone who got in her way.  She yelled at our staff, the postal carrier, other tenants that didn't exit the elevator quickly enough and even the tenant next door for "cooking smelly food".  She was so mean to her staff that they lived in fear of mistakes, knowing Laura would publicly humilate and loudly critisize them if any were made.  Just about everyone who worked in the building had seen Laura screaming at some poor soul for a greivous error such as not throwing out the coffee filter or forgetting to replace the paper in tray 2.

(By the way, Laura is her real name.  She's such a horrible person that I feel no need to protect her identity or reputation.)

But back to the story.  When the nice accountant lady came down, she explained she was new and wasn't exactly sure she understood the rent statement.  She had a check with her, and when we went over the statement I explained to her that the check was only partially correct: since she was new, she didn't realize that the office had expanded a few years back, causing the suite to generate two monthly rent statements.  Since her check contained the payment for only one of those statements, I printed her the second one and she went back up to the 11th floor.

I know, exciting stuff, right?

Not ten minutes later, Laura came tearing into the office, guns blazing.  "NO ONE REFUSES MY RENT CHECK!" she screamed.

"Huh?"  I'm in property management.  I love rent checks...they help me supply the building with frivolous things like...electricity.  I'd accept a check written by OJ Simpson if I thought I could float it long enough to pay the water bill.

"NO ONE REFUSES MY RENT CHECK!  THIS CHECK IS GOOD!  LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING...!"

While she threw her tantrum, I tried to understand why she was so mad.  From what I could piece together, the poor new accountant had gone back up to the office and explained to Laura that I had said I would "need another check."  Laura, having no idea how to pay the rent and not bothering to gather the proper information, immediately assumed that I had rejected the check because it was written from a "dba" sub-account of the office.

"...YOU TAKE THIS CHECK EVERY MONTH!  WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU THAT YOU'RE SUDDENLY REJECTING THIS CHECK?! ARE YOU STUPID?"

After one attempt to explain what the problem was, I realized there was no point.

"DON'T YOU DARE INTERRUPT ME!"

At this point, Laura was so angry that she slammed the check on my desk with a slap so hard it blew other papers off.  She then came around so we were both behind the desk and bent down, wagging her finger in my face, scolding me like I was a child.  As she continued to throw her tantrum, she worked herself into such a tizzy that while jabbing her finger at me, she lost control and poked me in the face.

For one split second, we were both stunned into silence.  Laura, realizng she had pretty much just assaulted me, paused in her tirade just long enough to take one step back before resuming her yelling and finger waving.

When she felt she had said enough, she huffed from the office, promising to "TELL MY BOSS TO TEACH ME TO NEVER REFUSE A CHECK FROM HER AGAIN."

As the door slammed she told me "I'LL HAVE YOUR JOB OVER THIS!"

I stared after her shocked and confused. "What the Hell had just happened?!" and "This woman is legitimately crazy!" were thoughts that ran through my head. I breifly considered calling my boss, but she so rarely got out of the office that I felt bad and decided to wait until she got back.

As I tried to shake it off (literally, I shook my head like a wet dog) I looked up and saw "Lizzie", our sweet day porter, eyes wide, standing next to my doorway.  When I realized she had been there the whole time I was glad that 1)  Laura didn't scream at and poke her in the face and 2) someone else had seen what just happened, as surely this story would have sounded made-up.

"Miss Beth, are you okay?  That woman is crazy.  Please to call Dan?"  Before I could answer, she was picking up the radio to call Dan, our security guard.  I stopped her, telling her it was fine.  I didn't think Laura would be coming back anytime soon.

We kind of laughed about what had just happened, but Lizzie knew I was still a bit shaken when I asked her to lock the door behind her when she left.  She called my boss, Ruth, at lunch to let her know what had happened.  Ruth, hearing the story in frantic Spanglish cut her lunch short and headed back to the office.

When Ruth got a hold of the whole story, we started the procedure for filling in our upper-management and corporate Human Resources Director, who just happened to be Debra.  Additionally, my sister was a Director at the company.  The story, while not really funny, quickly made the rounds at the corporate office and became the subject of much hilarity.  The asset manager on the Property, "Da Bears" called Ruth to ask her if he should get me a bat.

Ruth, ever the good boss, sent a letter to Laura and her boss (who was rarely in the office and traveled overseas frequently) explaining Laura was not to come to the office anymore, and if she needed assistance, Ruth would come up to the 11th floor. But it didn't really matter.  Because of the incident, the absentee boss started asking around to his employees and was made aware of some of the crazy things Laura was prone to doing (not limited to face poking).  She was fired a few weeks later.  I got great joy from deleting her building access card and having the locks changed on her suite.

In all reality, what happened should not have been funny. In fact, it's slightly embarrassing how much the situation rattled me: for the rest of the afternoon, every time I heard the elevator ring on our floor I was visibly jumpy. I know Debra and Ruth were concerened that I had been so upset by the situation.

But for God's sake...a crazy lady poked me in the face! Who else does that kind of thing happen to?!  Had Lizzie not seen it happen, I'm pretty sure people would have thought I was pathological!

Because I was not hurt, we were dealing with a tenant and Laura has been noted as crazy before, everyone, including me, thought it was best not to call the police. Secretly though, deep down, a very childish part of me really wanted to...I had a hidden wish to see her led away in handcuffs to mean-person-jail.  In order to wrap up and document the incident, Debra asked the three of us, me, Ruth and Lizzie, to fill out incident reports.

Later that afternoon, Debra was compiling the incident reports and couldn't help but laugh when she read Lizzie's.  Knowing it would make me feel better, she emailed me a copy. In fact, in the years since, Kacie, Debra and I have on more than one occasion sent it to each other for a chuckle. 

God bless sweet Lizzie.  She conveyed the details of the incident as best as she could in English.  For this paragraph alone, I will always have a special place for her in my heart...I will remember her when a tenant screams at me, and think of her when I am scared:

"I was cleaning the manager office when mrs. Laura came to this office and she went to desk’s beth and she was screaming to beth all the time, I could see when she slammed the paper on the desk and she was injury with the finger beth’s face. I watched everything from frame’s door. I felt fear and I couldn’t call the security guard, just I waited that this woman leave the manager’s office."

...and everytime Chris Simms injures his finger, a Lizzie gets her wings.

I’m Only Going To Talk About This Once

When I started writing about my Adventures as a Football Girl, I knew the day would come when I would have to write about the 2001 Big XII Championship Game. So here I go. Get your eyeful, because I’m only going to talk about this once.

(Actually, I’m going to talk about it twice…but next time I will talk about a funny thing that just happened to occur on the same day as the most devastating Texas loss in the Mack Brown Era.)

There’s a few things you need to know before reading this:

1. Until yesterday, I have never watched a highlight, read an article, nor revisited a visual or audio record of this game.

2. I have only one bit of memorabilia from this game. No pictures, no souvenir cup. Only a single ticket stub.

3. I very rarely speak of this game, to the extent that I have on several occasions literally walked away from conversations about it.

4. In the second quarter of the game, I did something bad…something that to this day, I am utterly ashamed of.

The Alignment of the Stars

2001 was a relatively normal college football season. Sure, things happened: The U went undefeated, Maryland beat out FSU for the ACC title, Steve Spurrier took his visor to the Redskins and the former Big West teams found new homes. Relatively normal….until November. The last three weeks of the season were absolute chaos. I’m going to try to break this down as simply as I can:

• Miami was the Big East Conference Champion and the only undefeated team. They were smelling the roses, waiting to see who would be their challenger in the BCS title game. All signs were pointing to Nebraska.

• Thanksgiving weekend, Nebraska lost at home to Colorado, 62-36. This left Florida the top contender if they could win out. If the Gators were to lose to Tennessee or in the SEC title game, Oklahoma would have been BCS title bound.

• The next day, Oklahoma State dashed OU’s dreams when they beat the Sooners in a heartbreaker at home. This put Texas in the BIG XII Championship game and the BCS title race.

• The next week, Tennessee beat Florida, bumping the Gators out of the SEC & BCS title race.

• Tennessee, now #2 in the BCS, lost to LSU in the SEC Championship game.

• Texas climbed the BCS ladder to #2. A Big XII Championship title with a win over Colorado would send them to the big dance.

The Game

Chances are if you’re reading this, you know how the game went. It was one of the most awful things I’ve ever seen. Yet before sitting down to tell this tale, I did a monumentally stupid thing: I watched an eight minute video recap of the game.

Remember in “Field of Dreams” when James Earl Jones tells Kevin Costner “I’m going to beat you with a crowbar until you go away”? This game will never go away, and as I watched the recap I felt much like I did on December 1, 2001…like I was being beaten with a crowbar.

In all fairness, I’ve never been beaten with a crowbar. Still, after watching that recap, I had no choice but to wash down an Ambien with a half a box of Target wine and watch “Marley & Me,” simply so I would have a legitimate reason to be crying. I think that is exactly how I would react to being beaten with a crowbar.

As expected, the game was a nightmare. I had thought that maybe after 10 years, the emotions of that game would be dulled, or the pain would be less. It wasn’t. This probably means I have some kind of mental problems, but if my passion for Longhorn football is the craziest thing about me, I guess I’ll take it.

I’m going to try to break down the action and MY THOUGHTS on the game as plainly as I can:

• While waiting in line for a beer prior to the game, I crammed into a concession booth with 68 strangers (though at that moment they were like best friends) and watched the stars align as LSU put the final touches on a win over Tennessee, securing a Texas bid to the BCS title game if they won that night against Colorado. I FEEL ELATION! I AM GIDDILY LAUGHING-LIKE-A-MAD-SCIENTIST! WE ARE GOING TO THE NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP!

• Kickoff! Game time! Colorado punts away the first Possession! I AM HAPPY! I AM CONFIDENT!

• Texas drive ending in a touchdown from Benson! Extra point! 0-7 Texas! WE ARE GOING TO WIN. WIN WIN WIN. ROSE BOWL! WINNING! WIN!

• Colorado: Scoreless drive. Texas: Scoreless drive. Colorado: Scoreless drive. HMMM.

• Texas interception ending in Colorado Touchdown. 7-7. DAMNIT, SIMMS! NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR THIS!

• Texas punts away a possession, and then forces a Colorado field goal. 10-7 Colorado. I FEEL SOME CONFUSION. WE NEED TO SCORE! THE POINT IS TO SCORE!

• End of 1st Quarter. I FEEL LIKE IT IS IMPORTANT FOR ME TO HAVE AN ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGE. RIGHT NOW.

• Aaaand Simms interception #2 resulting in a CU touchdown (but they missed the extra point...) 16-7 Colorado. WTF SIMMS? STOP DOING THAT. MAYBE TRY TO BE SNEAKY. LIKE NOT POINTING AND MAKING BEDROOM EYES AT THE GUY YOU’RE THROWING THE BALL TO.

• Texas manages a possession without a turnover. Field goal, good. 16-10 Colorado. UH, OKAY. THIS IS NOT YET OUT OF CONTROL. WE CAN DO THIS. ANY POINTS ARE GOOD POINTS.

• Vasher intercepts a pass. YAY!

• Don’t get too excited...Simms promptly fumbles the ball and the Buffs score. Just for fun, they go for two. Lucky for us, they don’t get it. 22-10 Colorado. DUDE. TIME TO GET YOUR GAME FACE ON. IF HE TURNS THE BALL OVER ONE MORE TIME, I MIGHT GO APECRAZY. BUT...AT LEAST WE GET THE BALL BACK.

• Do my eyes deceive me, or did Simms just throw a 3rd interception resulting in another Colorado 7?! 29-10 Colorado. WTF?! TAKE HIM OUT OF THE GAME IMMEDIATELY! STAT.

• Simms throws a pass that is not intercepted! Texas timeout. YES, YES. LET’S TAKE A MOMENT AND REGROUP, PEOPLE.

Okay. Now, now’s the part where I did something bad, something that I have regretted for ten years and that I am not proud of. When Simms threw that 3rd interception, I booed him. I feel bad about this, but it’s something that I did and I can’t it take back now. I also booed him when he left the field at the timeout. I’m one of 35,000 people that did this, and that doesn’t make it any better. I was caught up in the moment and I did it.

Here’s the thing. In 2001 regular season play Texas had just one loss. It was to Oklahoma, 14-3, in a spectacular meltdown in which Simms threw FOUR interceptions. Notably, the Oklahoma game was one of two games that season in which Major Applewhite didn’t play, due to injury. But this is not about my thoughts on a quarterback controversy. I’ll save my thoughts on that for another time.

What I will say is that Simms had, before the end of the 2nd quarter, in a game where a win would send us to the BCS National Championship, turned the ball over four times while our record holding ‘backup quarterback’ sat on the bench.

I was kind of booing Simms. I was mostly booing Mack Brown & Greg Davis. Those two are notorious for not pulling players who are performing badly. Davis has even said he thinks pulling players “hurts their confidence.” Well Greg, I think having a stadium full of YOUR OWN FANS BOOING YOU tends to hurt your confidence.

It is reported that Simms only left the game because he dislocated his finger. I’m not saying that’s a lie, but I watched Simms on the sidelines during and after that timeout. He wasn’t tended to by trainers or given any particularly special attention. I think Simms pulled himself out of the game because Mack didn’t have the guts to do it. For that, I commend him. Shame on Mack for making a 20 year old kid pull himself out of a game.

• Applewhite takes the field. YAY! WE'RE GOING TO WIN! IT'S MAJOR! (The crowd agreed and as he walked on the field chanted "MAAA-JOR. MAAA-JOR")

• Texas Touchdown! Applewhite leads the team to the end zone after 16 seconds on the field. 29-17 Colorado YAYAYAYAYAY. WE CAN STILL WIN. WIN WIN WIN. ROSES. WIN.

• End of Half.  YEAH, I'M GOING TO NEED ANOTHER ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGE.

• Texas 3 and out. HMMM. I DID NOT ENJOY THAT.

• Colorado Touchdown. 36-17 Colorado. I REALLY DID NOT ENJOY THAT.

• Texas drives 74 yards resulting in a field goal. 36-20 Colorado. YES, ANY POINTS ARE GOOD POINTS. MORE POINTS! MORE POINTS!

• Colorado possession ends in punt. GOOD...

• Major is sacked and fumbles, ball recovered by Texas. 49 yard field goal attempt failed. STOP FUMBLING THE BALL! ALL OF YOU! NO MORE TURNOVERS! HAVEN’T YOU PEOPLE SEEN “THE PROGRAM”?

• End of 3rd Quarter. BREATH! WE CAN DO THIS. WE'RE SOOOO CLOSE.

• Texas Field Goal! 36-23 Colorado. POINTS! MORE POINTS!

• Baber intercepts Colorado pass! Touchdown TEXAS! 36-30 Colorado. MORE POINTS!

At this moment I did that thing I sometimes do. Where I irrationally decide/believe that we will win the game. I had this irrational hopefulness against Alabama in the BCS Championship. I can’t help myself. I wanted it badly. So. Very. Badly.

• Texas forces Colorado field goal. 39-30 Colorado. NO MORE SCORING. STOP IT.

• Major to BJ! Touchdown! 39-37 Colorado YAYAYAYAY! I CAN FEEL WITH IRRATIONAL CERTAINTY WE ARE GOING TO WIN! WE WILL WIN! WE ARE SO CLOSE TO WINNING! WIN WIN WIN!

• Texas onside kick attempt fails. Colorado wins, 39-37. I AM SAD.

The Aftermath

Not only was I sad, I was shocked, confused and angry. Mostly sad. To have something so close get piddled away by poor decision making and sloppy play was devastating. Yeah, it’s just a game. Yeah, they’re just kids. I get all that. But there was just something about that game. Any Longhorn fan will tell you the same.

Trying to get out of the parking lot at Texas Stadium took hours. Hours of letting the shock sink in. I vowed never to go back there, and by God, I never stepped foot in that stadium again. Thanks to JerryWorld, it was eventually imploded, so I will never run the risk.

To make matters worse, Nebraska who had been beaten by Colorado in the regular season and didn't even win their conference division, ended up in the BCS title game with Miami, over one loss-conference champion Oregon.  The ever controversial BCS ranking system's hot topics that year were that 1) not all conferences play a title game and 2) a team's strength of schedule ranking could actually be harmed by playing a conference championship game and beating a team they've already beaten in regular season play.  On the flip side, strength of schedule can be improved by losing to a team they have previously beaten.

I never took rocket surgery, so I don't really understand exactly how or why the BCS rankings work, other than on a theoretical level.  In fact, I'm not sure anyone really does.  But that, much like the quarterback controversy fiasco of the Appplewhite/Simms era, should be left for another day.

Miami ended up winning it all. Good for them.

As for the Horns, our season ended with a win over Washington in the Holiday Bowl. It was our 11th win of the season and a game performance that earned Major Applewhite an induction to the Holiday Bowl Hall of Fame.

Certainly not a season to snort at by any means. Yet my clearest memory of any game that year is the BIG XII Championship, and how close we came to the big dance.

That is all.

The Fight

The fact that we were tucked away at a hotel in Lubbock the weekend of the Texas / Texas Tech game was a miracle - a pure feat of wills that required bribery, crying and sheer determination. So when it was time to go out the night before the game, we decided not to venture too far.

Within walking distance of the hotel we had a Chuck-E-Cheese and a country bar called “Chances R”. While Chances R was totally unappealing and slightly frightening, it was deemed our destination for the night.

Frankly, I can’t let go of my childhood fears of Chuck-E-Cheese and wasn’t ready in my 30 year old form to confront them. Look, you can’t judge me. That’s a scary and slightly over-stimulating place for a small child. I vaguely remember, at my 5th birthday party, dancing on a stage holding a Care Bear’s Care-mobile when a giant mouse approached me. My pudgy little belly stuck out of a well intended shirt and trembled dangerously as I screamed and cried as though I was being attacked. Traumatized for life, I feel like I’m lucky I didn’t turn out as a stripper: my future could have easily echoed that pudgy bellied girl dancing on a stage over-run by mice.

Yet I digress. We set off for Chances R. The quickest route seemed to involve trudging across a half acre field and running across a fairly busy street. Of course, once we were too far into our journey to turn back, we realized the field was muddy and primed with stickers just waiting for humans (and human clothing) to cling to. Being ever brave, we soldiered on. It was not the first time cowboy boots had been handy, a worthwhile investment.

Finally, across the local highway we ran to our destination. Chances R. It was all it promised to be. Still a little early, the place wasn’t particularly crowded but we had to do a little re-arranging with the locals to secure seats. The dance floor was just beginning to fill with the boot clad loyal of Lubbock. It was such a fine establishment that we immediately took a shot before settling in.

As is tradition in every away city we visit, we were faithfully wearing our burnt orange. And, as is tradition in every away city we visit, we were told repeatedly that we were going to lose, that we could go back to Austin (though we’re from Dallas) and that we could stick it. Though we very rarely get involved in pre-game trash talk (especially this season, 2010) people often don’t realize we’re not arguing with them.

It’s funny, on the road. It seems everyone just hates the Longhorns. We got an earful from some Georgia Tech fans and a gator about how awful Texas is. Often to taunt them in a clandestine way, we will sing their fight songs with utter sincerity and smiles. This confuses the fan. Generally enough so we can spin them around a few times and send them off in the opposite direction.

Though we’d each taken a few laps around the dance floor, two-steppin’ to the tunes of the house band, mostly we were in the mood to chill out and relax. On this particular night before the game, we wanted to prepare for the next day of Longhorn Lovin’ and bask in the success of having procured a hotel room. Chances R had other ideas.

While the band crooned on about trains and lost love, I spotted unusual movement from the corner of my eye. In a split second Debra and I (we are trained to recognize situations which will cause us distress) and scooped our belongings off the table and sheltered ourselves and Kacie from the fight that had just broken out.

Apparently, much like in a country song, someone had done somebody wrong. And, much like in a gangsta-rap song, somebody was going to get the crap beaten out of them. Or, much like in a song prisoners sing, somebody was going to be murdered, just for the Hell of it.

Debra and I felt immediate fear when we realized what was happening. There were two guys “Bubba” and “Jr.” Bubba, having felt some personal affront from Jr., sucker punched him from behind and pushed him to the ground. While Jr. lay stunned on the ground, Bubba began to kick him. In the face. With his boot.

Now, I’m not an expert on bar fights or anything, but to me, it appeared Bubba was legitimately trying to kill Jr. I can’t speak to anyone’s state of mind at any particular time, but I can tell you that if you’re kicking someone in the face/head repeatedly with your cowboy boot, you’re not just trying to explain that you’re angry. YOU ARE TRYING TO KILL THEM.

Now, time was moving very slowly as we watched blood spill out from Jr.’s head, but I would say that this went on for a good forty-five seconds before someone stopped it. This seemed like a really long time to me. Like an accomplice to murder amount of time.

A bouncer finally wrangled Bubba away from his victim and hauled him off. I stared at the lifeless form of Jr., who must surely be dead, having just been kicked in the face and head for barely under a minute while putting up absolutely no defense.

Then the most amazing thing happened: Jr. got up! He sprang to his feet like a frog while spitting out three teeth in one fluid motion. And let me tell you this: Jr. had a murderous thirst in his eyes. He wanted to kill Bubba. Kill him dead. And so he tried.

Jr. chased after Bubba and started to punch him in the back of the head as the bouncers escorted him out. It was a sight to see. More bouncers got involved and in the fray of each man’s posse trying to save their leader from the arrest that awaited them, an innocent passerbyer had his hat knocked from his head.

Of course, now the hatless man was very mad and looking to fight. Though he out-aged the man who ended up holding his hat by a good 62 years, this did not stop him from trying to absolutely clobber him. More bouncers got involved…luckily, the police were already on their way!

Kacie, Debra and I know when we’ve overstayed our welcome. We also have a firm rule of leaving places where there are fights and we are wearing hostile colors. We paid our tab and ran out the front door, carefully trying to camouflage ourselves into F-250s in the parking lot to avoid being seen by the myriad of people who had tried to kill each other and were now chatting with police.

Across the busy street and through the muddy field, our feet had wings…sadly we were not even able to stop and enjoy the barbeque station that had sprung up in the parking lot since our arrival at the bar. Amazing, what changes in an hour.

Back in the room, we pulled the stickers from our boots, clothes and skin while replaying the events of the last 24 minutes. As we brushed our teeth and said our prayers, we noted we were glad to be alive.

All said and done, we might've taken our chances with the terrifying giant mice.  Chances R I'll never venture in to a bar in Lubbock without my boots on.

Stuff I’ve Learned from Rival Football Fans:

You’re flimmin’ flammin’ bimmin’ bammin’ right, Old Miss is ready! Hell Yeah. Damn Right.

Texas only won the National Championship because of Vince Young. Meh, I’ll give it to you.

Texas Athletic Director DeLoss Dodds was a conference winner as both a track athlete and coach for the Kansas State Wildcats. Indeed. He was born and raised in Kansas. He also has three children who also bear the initials DD, which, as a triple initialer myself, makes me respect him even more.

Nebraska fans eat a normal amount of corn. I can neither prove nor disprove this. And I’m okay with that.

The Big XII is a weaker conference than the [insert conference here].  Maybe.  Or maybe we just run different offensive schemes and it's like apples and burnt oranges.

Texas needs to run the ball, they need a breakout rusher.  Look, I don't care if Baby McCoy picks up Baby Shipley and carries him into the endzone like a newlywed couple. Texas needs to score.  And win. However they can get that little piggyskin into the endzone or through the uprights is fine. 

You see, you have four chances to move the ball 10 yards.  When you move the ball 10 yards, it is called a first down.  Thanks, big stuff.  You're dreamy.  Can I look at your muscles while you explain the game to me....? I got it.

It’s not that cold. Thank you, for your kind comments about my tolerance of the weather. Come to Austin for a game in September. By God if you say one word about the heat, I will lock you in a porta potty.

“The Eyes of Texas” is really just “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad.” OMG! Thank you so much! I’ve been trying to place that tune since I was born! Thank GOD you’ve cleared that up! Now if you’ll excuse me, I think the Mickey Mouse Club is over…I can hear the closing theme song being sung by thousands over there in your student section.

You could never beat us in the horseshoe at night. Cause you're from Ohio. O-H-I-O

It is not good to try Meth. Not even once. I’m being serious. Not. Even. Once.

The refs totally fixed that game against Kansas in ’04. Yes, but don’t worry…after the game, Mangino ate the referee and a line judge.

Michigan is located in Ann Arbor. Let me tell you a secret: Ann Arbor is a whore.

Your team beat my team that one time. Statistically, yes, this is bound to have happened. But do you really want to talk about statistics?

Oklahoma beat Texas Tech and Texas Tech beat Texas, therefore Oklahoma beat Texas in 2008. I’m fearful of this circular logic and the passion it incites, but I do know that Texas actually beat Oklahoma. I was never good at algebra, so does that mean since Texas beat Oklahoma and Oklahoma beat Texas Tech, and Texas Tech beat Texas does that mean Texas Tech also beat Oklahoma? I’m confused….

Texas is responsible for bringing down the BIG XII because they are greedy bastards. If by greedy bastards you mean Texas expects the monies outlined in their contract with their conference be allocated to them, then yes, they are greedy bastards. Usually “greedy bastards” really just end up being exposed as “better businessmen,” but I get your point. You are jealous that your athletic director, staff, alumni and students don’t value your athletic program enough to invest enough money to warrant a nice return. It’s cool. I’m not hatin’.

Texas is responsible for bringing down the BIG XII because they are greedy bastards. This one again? Did I miss something? Did Texas leave the BIG XII?

Texas is responsible for bringing down the BIG XII because they are greedy bastards. The best whine is made from sour grapes. Sorry ‘boutcha.

The women in [our city] are better looking than the women in Austin. Thank you, kind sir, for the directly aimed insult. Now let’s clarify: by women, did you mean goats or pigs?

USC was going to have a three-peat on January 4, 2006. I’m sorry you feel that way. There’s a lot of evidence to the contrary. But, wait, maybe I'm mistaken...do the wins you have to vacate factor into that math?

Homecoming was invented in Columbia Missouri, home of the Tigers. So it doesn’t matter who wins, as long as you invented it, right?

Mack Brown just used the Simms/Applewhite quarterback controversy to get attention. Well, it certainly got attention. If using the Bo Pelini logic that all press is good press, then that would make sense. Say what you want about that season and Mack's decisions, as long as it’s not that Simms should have been the go-to guy. If you say that, it is possible my head will explode.

Texas should secede. I’m glad that you, much like Rick Perry, don’t feel the need to get the pulse of the registered voters of the State of Texas before making this declaration.

The BIG XII was started in 1998. Wrong.

Mack Brown came to Texas the first year of the BIG XII. Wrong.

Oklahoma always wins in BCS bowls. Still wrong…While it’s true that Oklahoma often plays in BCS bowls, they lose them more often than they win them.

The Texas Tech Mascot is NOT Yosemite Sam. Prove it, because I heard he was the roughest, toughest he-man stuffest hombré that's ever crossed into Lubbock. And he ain't no namby-pamby.

Ricky Williams ruined his entire career just so he could smoke pot. Possibly. I don’t think this was his only problem, but it certainly got the most attention. At least he’s honest about his between-season activity (ehem).

It’s okay for Iowa State to obnoxiously celebrate first downs, because they rarely get them. I feel like I would not brag about this. Though there have been seasons I’ve agreed with the sentiment.

Mack Brown is responsible for injuring Joel Klatt in the ’04 Big XII Championship Game by not having his players take a knee on every play after the half. Fail. Gary Barnett is responsible for the injury. Why were his starters still in the game when they were down by 40+ points in the third quarter?

I should ‘thank that Rosa Parks’ for letting me sit wherever I want on this Jayhawk game day bus. Okay…I’m not sure what to do with this gem of history/threatening comment, but I’ll keep it under advisement.  Also, I'm white.

(Horns Down) Very clever. You have turned a hand sign upside down to degrade my school’s mascot. I particularly love that you do this even when you are not playing my team. I admire the pride you have in your school’s own mascot.

Texas should have never gone to the Rose Bowl in the ’04 season. Mack Brown lobbied for votes and that is unfair. I am sorry you feel this way. It has been seven years since Mack made the horrific decision to stand up for his team. Let’s move on.

Aggies don’t lose games, they just run out of time. Whatevs. Longhorns lose games. Often spectacularly. Be a fan and get on board with the ups and downs.

TCU could beat Texas any day. Yes, of the 82 days that has been possible, TCU did win on 20 of those days. In the last 50 years, TCU has beaten Texas on 4 of those days. I’m not sure that constitutes “any day” but if it’s that important to you, take it.

A “Boomer Sooner” is not the same thing as a “cheater”. Correct, technically a Boomer Sooner would be considered, by definition, both a cheater and a thief.

I can’t tell you what “Rock Chalk Jay Hawk” means. It is a sacred school secret. I have no choice but to believe you also don’t know what it means.

A Lemon Drop shot is just warm vodka with a lemon on it. Clearly, in Colorado, a bartender can give you whatever he wants in a tiny glass and call it a Lemon Drop shot.

Texas blew a chance at the National Title when they lost the 2001 Big XII Championship to an inferior Colorado Team. Yes, I was there, I remember. It was a dark, dark day not only in the history of the program but in the history of my life.  I wept with joy when they tore that staduim down. 

Burnt Orange is ugly. So is Yo Mama.

Pizza Awesome

By November 27, 1998, things were looking mighty fine for the Longhorns. Ricky was on his way to break Tony Dorsett’s record and claim the Heisman Trophy, and red-shirt freshman Major Applewhite was king of the quarterbacks. Mack Brown was on top of the world – he was set to win 9 games in his first season with Texas. After the Mackovic era (4 wins in ’97?!), the burnt-orange-blooded were desperate for some good news.

That fateful (day-after) Thanksgiving, the Longhorn faithful made their way to Darrell K Royal-Memorial Stadium looking to beat the Aggies.

I had spent the week before that standing in line for football tickets for my parents, sister and her husband at the time. We’ll call him “Holloway.” The ticket-getting process wasn’t quite yet refined. Probably because it had been many years since people wanted to go to games. So I sat, stood and slumped in the ramps of the stadium for two days. Classes be damned (don’t worry, I would later fail out) I was going to get tickets to that game.

It was in those ramps that I realized for the first time how awesome Mack Brown was. As Mack and company delivered slice after slice of pizza to the waiting weary, we knew we were destined to love him. It was two days later that I sent him an email thanking him for Mr. Gatti's finest, and three days later when he responded back from his blackberry saying I could repay him by cheering like crazy for the boys as they beat A&M. Say what you want about Mack, but in the years since I’ve never heard of a fan coming away from an interaction with him who didn’t feel the same way I do. Mack Brown is Pizza Awesome.

With tickets secured, my family trekked to Austin for the game. They weren’t great tickets, mind you. On the 20 yard line of lower deck (pre-Godzilla-Tron) it wasn’t really easy to see the game. But no one grumbled for too long. It was somewhere in the first quarter that Ricky broke the record, on that very 20 yard line. Suddenly we had the best seats in the house.

Bear in mind that Holloway was hungover out of his mind. I’m not sure how he was functioning. What I do know is that at one point during the game he went to get everyone cokes and waters and dropped them all as he walked back into the stadium. I personally would have said “screw it, get your own damn soda,” but as a testament to his character Holloway went back inside to get more. It wasn’t until much later that we learned the reason he took 45 minutes to get refreshments is because he had to do it twice.

Somewhere around yard 45 of Ricky's dazzling 60-yard touchdown sprint to break the record, the Longhorns went CRAZY! It was Ricky's time, but it was ours too. We were finally back on the scene. Years of patiently outwaiting arrogant coaches with little talent were done. In the moments after the record was broken, the game stopped, and a two minute Ricky-highlight-reel played while the horns chanted “Heis-man…Heis-man” and Tony Dorsett jumped up and down like a maniac. It was a good day for the Horns. We all knew the little golden trophy man was coming home and that greatness for the Longhorns was just around the corner.

It only took one year for Mack to convince the Horn fans to "Come Early, Be Loud, Stay Late & Wear Orange," and it only took that one year for Mack to convince us that Texas would soon again be awesome. Pizza Awesome.

The President

Over the last seven months, I’ve complained at least 877 times about drunk people not knowing what I was dressed as last Halloween. What I thought was a pretty recognizable Big Bird costume looked to the over-served like a duck, a chicken, sponge-bob and my personal favorite, a chicken nugget.

Somehow, in my lamentations I forgot that I was once that person. I was once the person who, after ample libation was unable to articulate that I did indeed understand the costume but the words were a little bumbled coming out.

In 2009 I went on one of my favorite road trips ever. My first trip to Stillwater was a memorable one, filled with good tailgate friends and great memories. Kacie and I, upon arriving in town the morning of the Texas / Oklahoma State game, went first to Eskimo Joe’s. Immediately disappointed by the atmosphere, we headed across the street to a bar called George’s Stables, henceforth referred to as “The Stables.”

It was Halloween and the CATI crew was already pretty rowdy, and frankly, quite sure they owned the bar. The jukebox had been hijacked and the guys could not get enough of those $1.25 beers. Kacie and I walked in and immediately felt at home.

The day had begun. Patio, inside, bathroom line…it didn’t matter. We owned the joint. As the day wore on we owned it more.

As game time drew nearer there were more characters out and about. Being Halloween, there were people in costumes roaming the streets and bars, along with the general game-day crew.

Additionally, as game time drew nearer, there were less and less sober people in our crew…Kacie and I realized we were not going to make the drive back to Dallas. Two of our friends, we’ll call them “Scotch” and “Dustin” offered to put us up in their motel room. They were staying at the mighty fine “Circle D” up the road, across the street from the Papa John’s.

Once this had been decided, I went into full on drunk mode. Just before heading over to the stadium for the game, we saw the best costume of the day: Four guys in suits with ear-talky things escorting a dude in a suit with a Richard Nixon head on. While the secret service dutifully escorted him around, Mr. Nixon got lots of attention and applause.

Irritated secret service agent.

Being the picture whore that I am, I decided I needed a picture with Mr. Nixon and the secret service. So I did what any drunken person would do and started screaming for his attention. Sort of. Never has a chicken nugget been more embarrassed that I was when I yelled his name:

“JIMMY!” I called desperately to Richard Nixon as he walked by. “JIMMY!!!” I KNEW he was Richard Nixon. I KNEW he was not a crook. I just could not articulate the fact, and my beer soaked vocal chords were certain that I did not want to yell “Richard.” The shots and beer KNEW I wanted to yell “JIMMY”. As in Carter.

Dick and his M-I-B slowed as they walked away…only one of the agents bothered to look at me (in disbelief, one hand still to his earpiece) as they disappeared around the fence.

The day deteriorated. The Longhorns beat the Cowboys, but not until Dustin had offered my dad some whiskey soaked coke and Kacie had to muscle and obese man out of her seat. I also continued my reign of horrifying poor Major Applewhite by screaming that I loved him as he escorted the team into the tunnel.

Back at “The Stables” we continued to own the bar. Kacie and I patiently waited while Scotch and Dustin wound down enough to go back to the Circle D. I’m fuzzy on the details, but Dustin somehow knew Scotch was at Papa John’s and repeatedly kept calling there to ask for him. For some reason they repeatedly kept handing the phone to Scotch. Also, someone ended up on a stranger’s bike and leaving it in the bed of another stranger’s truck…but, I guess on the upside, at least he didn’t drink and drive.

Kacie, Scotch, Dustin and I settled in for the night. I think I brushed my teeth with vodka in order to avoid having to use the Circle D water.

That night I dreamed of Jimmy Carter and Richard Nixon, playing football while Major Applewhite brought them Papa John’s pizza.

The Coldest Day Ever

In 2008 we journeyed to Lawrence, Kansas for the Texas/KU game. None of us had been to Lawrence before. Additionally, none of us had ever been that cold before.

That morning, after a long drive in the rental car, Kacie and I finally arrived at our first destination of the weekend: Johnny’s Tavern.

The day started out cold, but as it was only November and the game was during the day, we assumed it would warm up a little. Still, we are not chance takers (aside from the risks of life and health we would later take at the America’s Best Value Inn) so we bundled up in our down (burnt orange, I might add) jackets and wore multiple layers of clothing. We bundled scarves, hats and gloves into our purses and headed out to tailgate.

At Johnny’s we met up with Debra and her boyfriend at the time, and spent a good few hours watching other football games, being ribbed by Jayhawks and drinking to keep warm. Until that day, I never really understood why hobos were always drunk. Now I do.

Somehow, we ended up on the Johnny Bus, which took loads of drunken football fans to the stadium. The bus had stripper poles on it, which we clung to for dear life as it weaved its way to campus. Thank God for the Johnny Bus. The bus dropped us off with explicit instructions on where it would pick us up after the game. We took notes, knowing all too well what it was like to be wearing burnt orange without transport in a rival college town, and headed to the stadium.

Those Jayhawks certainly tried their best to keep a bunch of out of shape Longhorns out of Memorial Stadium. In the half mile trek inside we went up and down at least 6 steep little hills. Between the cold air and the unexpected cardio, I felt as though my lungs were filled with blood from my poor, overworked heart.

Did I mention the temperature was dropping? Apparently I hadn’t gotten the memo from Jack Frost that Kansas was the new Siberia. Had I been aware of the pending 21 degree wind chill, I would have worn 6 pairs of long underwear underneath my meager jersey, long sleeved tee and ski jacket. Luckily our Horns were prepared on the field, having flown in heated benches rented from Notre Dame just for the occasion!

Kacie and I settled into our own, non heated seats (careful to move around as to not get stuck to them, a la Christmas Story) and quickly realized the breeze was not helping the frostbite situation. We did our best to cover most of our exposed skin, but still felt a very real fear of freezing to death.

Kacie was the first to spot our savior…which came in the form of hot chocolate. Throughout the game, we took turns going into the tunnels to fill our newly acquired KU mugs with the sweet, sweet nectar of the Eskimos. The concession stand would not refill the mugs, so in order to get a full serving you had to purchase two small Styrofoam cups then pour them into the mug. Luckily I have the smartest sister in the world, who realized we could just bring the mugs down with us, immediately dump the contents of the cups into them and snap the lids on right there. This saved us from the treacherous walk so many had to make up the stairs of the stadium while desperately trying to protect the liquid gold in the Styrofoam cups using defunct, frozen phalanges.

On one of these trips to the fountain of warmth, I ran into Debra. She was looking a little blue and the lips and clutching a pair of gloves. “I’m going to put them on my feet,” she explained. I eyeballed her skeptically as she lumbered off to the bathroom, but could not be distracted from my hot chocolate gathering mission for long.

Near the peak of my sugar high...

What happened in the next three hours (besides an amazing Longhorn victory) can only be described as a sugar high. A sugar high resembling an acid trip. Kacie and I were giggling like children, and snuggling with strangers to keep warm. At some point a balloon hat in the vague formation of Bevo floated into my hands, and I put it on my head. I then proceeded to hit the deck ghetto-style when I stepped on it…it popped defenselessly under the blocks of ice my feet had become.

After singing the “Eyes of Texas” we anxiously trekked back to the “bus stop”. After what seemed like hours, the Johnny Bus came and took us back. Not a moment too soon, as the freezing temperatures had us eyeballing one another, sizing each other up to decide who we would eat first. Yeah, I saw the movie “Alive.”

Back at the bar, Debra and her man headed out while Kacie and I played pool with some locals. When we were exhausted enough, we headed out to the car to go to the hotel. It’s a good thing we called to get a late check-in, because we proceeded to sit in the rental car for the next 45 minutes with the hopes it would thaw out, desperately pushing buttons and eventually clearing enough frost from the windows and mirrors to navigate the streets of Lawrence.

After a frightful journey in the zamboni, we arrived at our second destination of the day: America’s Best Value Inn.

There are many things wrong with the name of this destination. I hesitate to call it a motel without using the pejorative “roach”, but for the purposes of this story, we will call it one.

First off, it’s not the “best” anything. It is the second worst lodging I have encountered on the road. It was dirty, poorly lit and not particularly cheap, knocking out the “value” portion of its name. Still, I guess I can’t call the America’s Best Value Inn a complete liar: it was, indeed, in America.

When we entered the “lobby” to check in, the first thing we saw was that the teller was behind bulletproof glass. We tried to joke with him about it, until we noticed a bullet mark and realized he wasn’t laughing. I did a mental over/under on how many times the bulletproofing had come in handy – the odds weren’t good.

All checked in, we dragged our luggage and selves (slightly thawed) up a narrow staircase and into a dark hallway. We located our room, which was just past the defunct vending machines and rusty water fountain. Once inside, we realized just how bad it was. We actually had the discussion that we were not going to bathe there, as we would just come out dirtier than when we went in.

In my infinite brilliancy, I had packed a set of sheets for this particular trip. While no one had actually made fun of me for doing this, when I told Kacie and Debra ahead of time, they weren’t particularly supportive and kind of “pah’d” the idea. I did not let the naysayers stop me. Lucky for Kacie, she reaped the rewards as my roommate that night. After uncovering an unknown stain running down the side of my mattress, I decided I couldn’t bear to let her get bed bugs, so she huddled in the top sheet in one bed and I huddled in the flat sheet on the other bed, both of us wrapped up like…well, bugs. At least we both got to use a pillowcase. And neither of us ended up with lice.

This sleeping experience prompted me to buy us both a “Dreamie.” A Dreamie is basically a sleeping bag made out of a sheet with a hole for a pillow, so you can sleep in disgusting bedding without it actually touching you. We got to use them last year in Grand Junction, Kansas (what is up with gross motels in Kansas?!) and found them quite handy, the only downfall being that they attract all the static in the room. I find this a small price to pay in exchange for not getting Gonorrhea from a motel bed.

Needless to say, in the morning we dressed and exited the room as quickly as possible in an effort to not be shot or see the roaches as they scurried into dark corners.

Rock Chalk Jayhawk…next time I’m sleeping in the car.

The Poking Device

Over the last 10 years I’ve traveled to stadiums near and far. If the gatekeepers at these stadiums were graded on how well they’ve checked my purse for contraband (booze, signs, umbrellas, air horns) I would give them a collective F+.  Generally I open my purse and they glance inside.  That's the entire purse checking process.

So on that fateful day in Lincoln - October 16, 2010 – I didn’t feel the need to think too far ahead about my plan to get booze into the stadium.

As Kacie, Debra and I meandered through the streets of Lincoln, we did have the foresight to hit up a liquor store. The general result of the pre-game liquor store is to acquire ‘boot-sized’ or ‘flask sized’ bottles of booze that can be carefully tucked into a game day boot and walked right into the stadium.

Lincoln, apparently anticipating our arrival, was not accommodating to my boots. The smallest bottle of acceptable liquor was roughly the size of a square shaped travel mug with a four inch neck. Ever the alcohol-optimist, I bought it.

This began an immediate string of bickering between me and Kacie. Kacie told me I couldn’t get it in. I became defiant and insisted I could. At different points we mocked one another to Debra, who caught in the middle, agreed that it was pretty big but that I am pretty clever.

Weaving through the day, I ended up buying a t-shirt, and, being the extremely clever girl that I am, wrapped the inappropriately sized Parrot Bay inside it and anchored it at the bottom of my purse. When it was time to examine my purse, I would hold it in the air from the bottom and open it up, therefore exposing a weightless purse with a t-shirt at the bottom.

As the day got longer and I grew less sober, I kind of forgot my brilliant game plan. When we rolled up to the ticket line, I plopped my purse down on the table and opened it up. At the sound of the sickening thud, I looked up and met my gatekeeper dead in the eye. Then I saw it. The big poking device.

Uh oh.

I’d only heard of the big poking device. I’d never actually seen one being used at a college football game. Now here I was, with a purse full of booze, looking straight at one as it started to poke at my purse. My hands got a little clammy.

“What was that?” he asked me, prodding the metal stick of no fun around in my classic black Coach bag.

“Oh, my purse is just really heavy” I replied, completely drunkenly nonchalant. I got this, I thought.

Poke…poke…thunk. “What’s in the t-shirt?”

Sweat… sweat….sweat. “Oh, that’s just a t-shirt I bought.”  Yes, Beth, good.  Go with a nonsensical answer not particularly pertaining to the actual question, but kind of along the same lines.

As this is happening, Debra and Kacie are already inside. Debra asked Kacie “What do we do?” To which she replied “we give her five minutes. She’s got her ticket and her phone.” Sisterly love was not at Memorial Stadium at that moment. Of course based on past experience (BIG XII Championship, 2001) this should not have surprised me. Regardless, I’m sure Kacie and Debra had the utmost faith that my booze and I would be getting into the stadium that day.

Thunk…thunk…poke. “What’s in the t-shirt.”

Panic…panic…panic . “Okay, it’s booze. Can I just go in? Please” I figured lying at this point would not help, since we both knew that we both knew what I had in that purse, so I went for pleading in my best Texas drawl.

“Sorry ma’am, I can’t let you in here with that. You can go over there and drink it, then come back in. Or you can throw it away and come back in.” Both of these options were enunciated by him pointing with his giant poking device to a) a clump of people downing booze and b) a large trashcan full of discarded booze.

Pleading look.

Shaking head.

“Okay, fine”

I huffed over to the clump of people downing booze. “Hey Huskers! Cover me!” True to the kind and welcoming nature of the Nebraska fans, they did just that. As I squatted down and tried to maneuver my jeans over my knee, they made a tight circle around me. I don’t know how, but I got the bottle into my boot. It was precarious and obvious, but it was no longer in my purse. Thanks to the Care Bear’s circle of concealment, I once again had hope.

I popped back in line, limping carefully as to not disturb my boozeboot situation.

When I got the gatekeeper I put my purse down with a much less resounding thump. T-shirt over my shoulder, I looked up and found myself staring directly into the eyes of the gatekeeper with the poking device who had just sent me away.

Unsteady smile…sweat…Unsteady smile… "No more booze!”  Good Beth, good.  Just be all causal-like.  YOU GOT THIS!

Poke…amused half-smile….head shake…poke. “Enjoy the game, ma’am.”

A little too politely and way too crazy-eyed, I thanked him and limped on into the stadium, where Kacie and Debra were waiting for me.

In true little sister fashion, the first thing I could blurt out was “told you I could get it inside!” Classy, Beth. Classy. Of course, the gloating was short lived as I realized I had about 12 steps or 45 seconds before that Parrot Bay popped right out of my boot and on the concrete tunnel.

After managing to free the booze and find our seats, I further annoyed Kacie by screaming non-stop at every soda vendor that walked by. “SODA GUY” I would scream, arms flailing. “SODA GUY.” Kacie was about at the end of her rope.

Thank you, Soda Guy!

Still, as much as we may annoy each other, Kacie and I are instinctually protective of one another. When I finally snagged a SODA GUY and bought half his stock, the man behind me said in a slightly mocking tone “what, you got some hooch for that?” Kacie whipped around and looked him in the eye. “Yes,” she said calmly, not missing a beat. “Oh, cool.” The Husker replied.

Rolling her eyes, she accepted her spiked sprite and the past was forgotten.

But I learned a valuable lesson that day. Bring pre-planted, boot-sized booze only...because if I’m going to football stadium jail, Kacie and Debra will not come get me until after the game.

Chicken Nugget

October 31, 2010 will remain forever, my very last Halloween.

Since my venture into adulthood, I’ve lost interest in costume parties and drinking holidays. It’s become an increasing whip to have to dress up for a theme party or spend all day trying to maneuver a drinking holiday. Halloween is the pinnacle of this frenzy, combining the costume and drinking requirements, and I work very hard to have to “work late” or “not feel good” when All Hollow’s finally rolls around.

In 2010, a decision (based purely on nostalgia and football fever) was made that Kacie, Debra and I would dress up for Halloween and hit 6th Street in Austin after the Baylor game. This decision would eventually prove to be a worse one than starting Simms over Applewhite in the 2001 Big XII Championship. But I digress.

After a humiliating loss to Baylor at our home stadium, the three of us headed back to the hotel to suit up. Kacie was dressed as a sexy fireman, Debra donned a sexy waitress costume and I was…Girl Big Bird.

I was very proud of my Girl Big Bird costume. It had a feathery looking dress with a layered feathery skirt, cute pink and orange stockings and a Big Bird Head on a headband. I wore heavy blue eye-shadow and had even added a feather boa bustle in the back.

Then there were the feet.

Worry not about the feet, my child.

I looked for weeks for appropriate orange shoes to wear as feet, but knowing I’d be walking and standing all night, I just couldn’t settle. So I set out to make my own by crafting large big bird feet and toes out of orange foam board. I flopped them over a pair of comfy heels and secured them to my ankles with pretty pink ribbon. My feet were of much debate the week before Halloween. After texting her pictures of them, Kacie responded that she was “worried about [my] feet.” She and Debra eyed them dubiously as I strapped them on before leaving the hotel.  

When it was all put together…I looked like a Girl Big Bird. Cute, but not sexy.

This wasn’t the first and wouldn’t be the last time I was inappropriately matronly at an event, but my un-sexiness was exaggerated by the fact that most women wear underwear, stilettos and angel wings or bug ears to 6th Street Halloween.

We knew we had made a mistake as soon as we left the hotel. People were too disorganized, wandering aimlessly through the streets. They were too grabby. They were too drunk. And there were too freakin’ many of them.

It didn't help that we were so annoyed and frightenend that we couldn't muscle through the throngs.  At one point Debra turned to me and said "We're like the Longhorn offensive line: Timid, Scared..." I interrupted her.  "And indecisive."

We tried to keep out of the fray by claiming a table pretty early at a bar lining the block party. This became un-fun when we were immediately assaulted by the German Beer Drinking team from Beerfest. We had to get out of there. Most bars proved similar results, and the lines were only getting longer.

Here’s the thing about drunk people and Halloween. When you’re drunk, you see a costume and comprehend what it is, but you just can’t make the words come out of your head properly (re: me in Stillwater, Oklahoma). The first instance of brain-to-word confusion came when we were walking out through the lobby of the hotel. A guy dressed like Tony Romo with a broken arm noted aloud as I walked by “SpongeBob!” I did a double take, then asked Kacie and Debra “Do I look like SpongeBob? “ They were kind. “No, it’s just that you’re yellow.”

Unfortunately, the SpongeBob incident set the precedent for my night, and I became completely paranoid about my costume. Not only was I un-sexy, but also ambiguous.

The girls tried to talk me off the ledge by pointing out this was happening everywhere. Case in point, as we walked along a sidewalk, a homemade Buzz Light-year zoomed past. As we praised his costume someone behind us yelled out “Hey! Buzz Aldrin!”

Oh, so very close.

Eventually, the night got to a point where I had been called "duck" and "chicken”. Kacie had been groped by a few strangers and Debra had been stepped on twice. It was then that we decided to head a few blocks down to a private party hosted by a friend of ours with a tailgate we'll call "The JumboTron Whores". The walk was brutal and the people just as bad, so by time we got there all I could do was desperately say at the bouncer “we’re with The JumboTron Whores...jumbotron…whores….please…”

Once inside, we looked for the guy who had invited us.  We'll refer to him as "Units".  We had called him to let him know we were there, and found out that he was running late.

So happy to be indoors with people who weren’t intent on making us uncomfortable, we sat and ordered drinks. I poured over karaoke selections and we met someone who was possibly as upset by costume confusion as I was. While clever, the man with the chef’s hat and t-shirt bearing the elemental symbol “fe” was getting a lot of “steel chef” and “Swedish chef” comments that he didn’t care for.

"Neeber schneeber." That’s Swedish chefspeak for “I feel your pain, brother.”

After having a few drinks and witnessing some terrible karaoke we wandered into the main room of the party, eyes peeled for Units or some of the other people we knew.  While Units was still MIA, we did run into his girlfriend.  It just took one very uncomfortable moment for us to realize that Units wasn't picking up her calls...and she was quite unhappy he picked up ours.

By the time the night was over, we had gotten Units in deep water with his gal, sung karaoke and encountered Jabba the Hut. Luckily none of us had fallen down, and Kacie did not murder the very sexy (just ask her) Minnie Mouse.

We headed home. Exhausted and glad the very last Halloween was over.

Turns out, the most fear we felt all night was the moment we arrived back at the hotel. A party had just ended in one of the ballrooms and people were milling around waiting for cabs. Hundreds of people. They had diamonds for teeth, they were not in costume, many of them were throwing shoes, arguing and yelling obscenities. To add to the ambience, there were armed policemen in the lobby with their hands poised hovering over their guns.

All we wanted to do was get to our room. Alive.

Once in the room, I made them both apologize. The entire night, there had not been one single issue with my Girl-Big-Bird-homemade-feet.

They will never again doubt my feet.

So my very last Halloween (all things considered) was fun. The holiday went out of my life with a bang. As frustrated as we were at the time, we laugh hysterically now when we tell the stories.

Just recently, in fact, Kacie and Debra revealed to me a dark secret about that night. I had always thought there should be no secrets between friends, but in this case, I think they were wise to wait awhile to tell me.

As the story goes, a few weeks after the very last Halloween, Debra asked Kacie in a tentative tone “So, speaking of that night…Did you hear…um, in the lobby…on Halloween…that person called Beth – ?"

Kacie stopped her with a nod. Somehow in the midst of the fear of near death in the hotel lobby they had both seen a man point at me and heard him call me something. Knowing I was already on edge regarding costume confusion and that it had been a long night of walking, frustration and chaos, they said nothing about what they had witnessed. They didn’t even dare discuss it among themselves.

“Yeah, I heard it,” Kacie said, still nodding.

“Chicken Nugget”

New Boots

It became clear that I needed to invest in a nice, comfy, stylin’ pair of cowboy boots if I planned to survive another football season in (and around) Texas.

I searched the world (okay, I went to three stores) over and found a beautiful pair of black and brown old gringos and had them custom fit to my high arched yet freakishly short and narrow feet. Half a paycheck later, my boots and I were inseparable.

While wearing my still new boots at the Missouri Tigers’ Stadium I was intoxicated.

Due to the intoxication I tumbled down a small set of six steps. It’s possible there were only three steps but I was seeing double. My boots and I will never know.

The stumble wasn’t too bad: I managed to stay upright, but there was arm flailing and excessive spastic movement.

I still feel shamed by what I did next: I blamed the unfortunate footing on the staircase on my new boots.

How quickly I turned on the Old Gringos that I had so lovingly pulled on just seven hours and a belly full of booze earlier!

“NEW BOOTS!” I squawked, still flapping my arms to keep balance. “I’M NOT DRUNK! I FELL BECAUSE I HAVE NEW BOOTS ON!” People were starting to stare. “NEW BOOTS! I’M SOBER! NEW BOOTS.” Tonya Harding had NOTHING on me.

Oh how the mighty had (quite literally) fallen…

Don’t feel too bad for the boots, though. No bad deed goes un-punished. They eventually won the war a few weeks later, when they crippled me in Lubbock, causing me to shout at an innocent young co-worker for not carrying me across a busy street and sit in the lap of strangers, simply so I wouldn’t have to stand up anymore.

My boots and I have made up. But I will not cross them again.

Love Field

By 2009 I had lived in Dallas for over half of a decade. In this time, despite my many travels to Burnt Orange locations, I had only flown out of Love Field a few times. And, in defense of the story that’s about to be told, I had never driven myself there.

It was October of that year, when we traveled to Missouri. By now you know that my sister Kacie, our friend Debra and I tailgate with a core group of folks at each home game and many of the away games. The Come & Take It Tailgate has been involved in many of my fondest memories of the last decade, and I’m always excited to spend college football Saturday with them. Often, though, it’s just Kacie, Debra and I on the road together, exploring our new college football city.

This particular year, Kacie, Debra, her boyfriend at the time, Jeff and I were all scheduled for a Southwest flight to Kansas City at 3:20 PM. All of the Southwest flights for the rest of the day and the next morning were booked solid, as the Cowboys were playing the Chiefs the same weekend.

Being a dutiful flyer, I left my office, located approximately 7 miles from the airport, at 1:00 PM. I typed the airport’s name into my iphone map and set off. I knew it was generally near Mockingbird. After following the turn by turn directions in the map, it was clear I was not headed to the airport’s main entrance. Assuming my phone was taking me an awesome back way, I drove back and forth looking for a road that did not exist. I turned down other roads when my dot looked about right, but that lead me nowhere.

Eventually I asked for directions. They sounded easy enough. It wasn’t until the old Texas Stadium got bigger and bigger, closer and closer, that it became clear I was mistaken. I did a u-turn.

It was now 2:30. By the time I popped back from the u-turn, I felt doomed. Frantic phone calls to the other members of my travel party went unanswered, as did texts. I started crying. And talking to myself.

I finally stopped again, at a Racetrac Gas Station, and still crying I frightened the clerks into giving me the correct directions to the airport. Still bawling, I found Love Field. Possibly the most easily assessable airport in the world. I rolled into the parking lot and found a front row spot. It was 3:05.

Delusional that I could get on a later flight, I dragged my bag up to security. Alarmed by my distressed and crying face, the three other airport travelers let me cut in front of them in the security line. When I passed through my screening, I saw on the flight trackers that my plane was still boarding.

Hope bloomed! I started running to the gate which was, of course, on the opposite side of the airport. Bear in mind that at no time during this adventure have I stopped talking to myself.  It's a wonder I wasn't additionally screened by security as I cursed my boots then apologized to those same boots while tearing them off my feet.

In fact, I didn’t even put my boots back on before tackling the moving sidewalks. I was full on "Home Alone" style running through the airport.  All the while talking to myself about how stupid I looked running shoeless and "Home Alone" style through an airport 7 miles, yet over two hours from my office.

Needless to say, everyone got out of my way.

This could be me....but isn't.

Redfaced from unexpected cardio activity and, of course, crying, I stepped up to the counter at the gate. Distress washed over me and removed all hope when I saw they had already chaged the flight on the board and were handing out standby boarding passes.

I have to believe the crying and babbling to myself caused the gate attendant some alarm. Seeing a grown woman cry pushed the ticket agent over the edge, and he told me they were just about to give away my seat. Fresh tears forced their way down my cheeks and became tears of joy when he handed me my boarding pass. I was the last passenger on the completely full plane.

I gate checked my bag and sauntered down the aisle, a little drunk with exhaustion and dehydration. Southwest doesn’t have assigned seating, so as I made my way to the one empty seat in the back, I was surprised not to see three familiar faces. Before plopping into my middle seat, five rows from the back I saw my sister two rows behind me.

No doubt because I was still looking very alarming, a nice lady offered to switch seats with me so I could sit by my sister. I immediately put my boots back on and ordered some booze while Kacie filled me in. A last minute appointment at the doctor had pushed Debra and Jeff back and they missed the flight. Until that very minute, Kacie had been headed to Missouri….alone.


Somewhere in the middle of my screwdriver and halfway over Oklahoma I had calmed down enough to laugh. Kacie was glad I had stopped sweating and/or crying.

Touchdown. Baggage claim. Rental Car Trolley. What comes next is a whole different story.

** Update***
After Kacie read this adventure, she made the comment that I didn't adequately express her fear and concern that she was about to head to Missouri alone.  Then she made the point "but it is all about you."  Damn straight, sister!