Tag Archives: Hogs

A Little Confession

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This will hurt. (Some of you, anyway.)

In fact, I’m a little choked up. I can barely get the words out of my fingers. I’m so afraid this will be the end.

The end of us. But I respect our relationship enough to be honest, even when it’s risky.

I … well… I sort of…

… watched the Arkansas-Alabama game last Saturday.

I’m sure you expect an explanation. Just give me a moment to loosen the noose around my neck.

As per my quandary of a previous post, I elected not to watch the game at all. I didn’t want to chance it. Instead, I spent most of Saturday in the garage working on a little building project. I used power tools. Pneumatic ones. It was a real She-Ra Princess of Power moment.

But it was hot. I was flecked with sawdust. Pestered by mosquitos. All I wanted was a drink. Like any other tragic collision of circumstance, it must have been preordained.

Kind of like the iceberg that sank the Titanic.

I was on my way to the kitchen. My eyes locked onto the TV and found the scoreboard before I could stop them: 20-17, Arkansas. Just 5:55 left to play.

My heart leapt before I could stop it. I turned away, skidded for the kitchen, muttering: “I didn’t see anything, I didn’t see anything…”

The euphoria lasted the 90 seconds it took for the announcer to call: “Interception!”

In case you missed the game, allow me. The Razorbacks led the #1 team in the country for nearly the entire game. Until I happened to look at the screen.

My work in this field is unprecedented.

24-20, Alabama.

I’m sorry. (Again.)

Fellow Razorbacks: If you’re going to kill me, I ask only that you make proper burial arrangements on my behalf.

Thank you.

The Bama Dilemma

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The plot thickens.

Last week, I pledged my collegiate football loyalties to the Crimson Tide of the University of Alabama, with the sure and certain belief that their season would implode with the magnitude of a supernova.

Okay, so there was a little snag.

In my defense, last Saturday’s Alabama vs. Duke was only televised on pay-per-view. Not feeling equal to explaining to my husband:

  1. Why I (of all people) was paying to watch a college football on TV, and
  2. Why said college football team happened to be ALABAMA

I thought it best to just postpone my loyalties, insofar as watching was concerned, for another week. Maybe I couldn’t watch the game, but I would still be routing for the Tide in my heart. What difference could it make, really?

Yeah, well, we all know how that turned out. Sorry, Duke. That 62-13 really smarts.

So here we are again. Game Day. Ready to start over. Except that today’s match-up is…damn.

Alabama at Arkansas.

Number 1 vs. Number 10. Tide vs. Hogs. Goliath vs. David.

What shall I do? Oh, what shall I do?

As evidenced by fifteen years of Arkansas loyalty, my team of choice always loses if I watch (or listen to) the game. As further evidenced by Alabama’s cruel and unusual crushing of Duke last week, if I don’t watch the game, my team of choice goes on to a landmark victory. So do I watch? Or no?

The fate of the universe rest on this one decision.

Okay, maybe not. It just feels like it.

I would love to watch this game. Almost as much as I would love to be at this game. Walking down the hill from a tailgate, following the surging crowds down Stadium Drive, climbing into the stands to be enveloped in a sea of red-and-white-clad fans.

But I think I’d better not watch.

I don’t want to be haunted by visions of that sea of red-and-white turning on me like a lynch mob because I was solely responsible for a humiliating defeat on our home field when I could, instead, have handed them a decisive victory over the Number 1 team in the country. At least if I don’t watch, it’s harder to hold me accountable.

And that’s all I have to say about that.

Oh, except: ROLL TIDE ROLL. And I mean that. With every fiber of my being.

Cardinal to Crimson, or My New Team

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Just in time for today’s Game Day festivities, I’ve selected the unlucky recipient of my new college football allegiance.

It’s taken some very deliberate consideration and the swallowing of certain deep-seated prejudices, no doubt, but the determination to spur on my Razorbacks to a long-awaited championship title is worth no end of personal mortification.

On that note, the runner-up.

The obvious choice seemed to be the University of Oklahoma. Their status as a football powerhouse aside, motivation to target the Sooners with my unfortunate loyalties was amplified by the draw of camaraderie with their massive fan machine. Many of my friends are rabid OU fans, presenting a vista of watch parties and maybe even an actual game. Can you imagine sitting in the company of 82,000 Sooner fans, sabotaging the game from within their midst just by sitting in the stands?

But I could never get away with it.

Even if my friends conveniently forgot where I went to school, I’ve already exposed my true motives. And I don’t have money to replace slashed tires, repair broken windows or dispose of dead animals nailed to my front door.

No, no. OU is safe from me. (Unless of course they face off with Arkansas, in which case I’ll be hanging from the rafters, singing “Boomer Sooner” at the top of my lungs.)

I’d rather turn my attention to the main obstacle to Arkansas’s championship prospects — and my new college football allegiance —The University of Alabama Crimson Tide. (Sorry, Katherine.)

Odds makers are favoring the Crimson Tide to go all the way. But the first hurdle to clear is the conference title: in Alabama’s case, the SEC.

To which conference does Arkansas belong? The SEC, you say? Hmmmm. My motives suddenly become clear.

Having taken a crash course in Alabama fandom, I’m waiting only for today’s game to put my theory to the test. If I’m right, there’s no telling to what depths the Crimson Tide may sink this year.

To which I can only say: “Roll, Tide, Roll.”

Taking One for the Team

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Autumn is upon us and I’m kicking it off right by making a deal with hundreds of family and friends, not to mention thousands of strangers.

But I’ll get to that in a minute.

I grew up in Arkansas. I attended the University of Arkansas. I was an active member of a sorority at said university. I lived within walking distance of Razorback stadium for, conservatively, twenty games, and within driving distance for at least ninety. So that means what I’m about to share is going to hurt.

I have never witnessed the Razorbacks win a game.

No. Really.

Not in real life. Not on TV. I don’t think I ever even savored a “W” via radiowaves.

Serious cloud-making for them Hogs, let me tell you. The first game I attended as a college student was against the Florida Gators. Ouch. I sat in the stands with my dad, faces into the afternoon sun, while Gators ate pork BBQ. As in 42-7, Gators. They went on to win the SEC and the National Championship.

That was 1996. Since then, things haven’t really brightened up for me, football-wise. Luckily for all concerned, I haven’t been able to watch, attend or listen to every Razorback game, so they’ve managed to wrangle some wins behind my back — in between serious heartbreakers, that is.

Remember November 14, 1998? The Hogs stroll into Knoxville with an 8-0 record and hold the Vols to 24-22 with 1:43 left to play, whereupon Clint Stoerner fumbled and Tennessee recovered for the game-winning touchdown. The Vols went on to a National Championship, while in Arkansas hearts bled all over the state. In Razorback red, of course.

The time has come for me to confess my guilt as an accessory to this horrible crime.

You see, I was listening on the radio as we drove from a friend’s wedding service to her reception. But for me, the reception might have been different. (Tracy, I’m very sorry. If some guests seemed unnecessarily somber on such a joyful occassion, it is my fault.)

On the bright side, the next year, Stoerner and the Hogs came back to redeem themselves by defeating Tennessee 28-24. I don’t remember anything about the game, though. Oh, right. I missed that one.

Do you see a pattern emerging?

Lest you think all this is an ancient precedent and unrelated to recent history, dredge up October 17, 2009. The Razorbacks faced the undefeated (again) Florida Gators. My husband was away on a hiking trip. I was doing laundry during naptime. Bored, I turned on the TV and noticed — holy cannoli — the Hogs were beating the Gators.

The Hogs. Were Beating. The Gators.

Their lead was impressive. Only seven minutes remained on the clock. Surely, I thought, they’ll win and I can finally break my streak!

Please file that between “I really thought I was sober enough to drive,” and “This cheesecake doesn’t look all that fattening.”

Needless to say, the Hogs’ lead ebbed away faster than the clock and Tim Tebow laughed all the way to the Heisman Trophy. Even the eventual suspension of the officials for bad calls in Florida’s favor proved no balm in Fayetteville.

I’m sorry. I really, really am.

Which brings me to my point. I have, for the 2010 season, renewed my commitment to support Razorback football by enforcing complete and total personal abstinence from anything which might negatively impact the outcome of a game.

Therefore, I solemnly swear not to watch, listen to or otherwise monitor the outcome of a game. Neither will I DVR a game to watch later. (I think I might be able to get away with that once or twice, but I’m sure eventually it would catch up with me.)

Fellow Alumni and fans, please do not take this as a sign of ambivalence about my alma mater; I’ll be calling the Hogs on the inside. But I’m doing the nearest and most needful thing I can to ensure that you — and every Hog fan other than myself — can enjoy the 2010 season.

I can only pray the streak ends before my sons’ football allegiances are compromised. We live in Oklahoma, for crying out loud. Danger lurks at every turn.

In the meantime, I’m taking nominations to choose a new “home team.” My new team will be the object of obsessive game-watching, cheering and obnoxious merchandise in the complete confidence this team’s season will go up in a spectacular fireball of ignominious defeat.

I know many of you superstitious fans would do anything to crimp the style of your team’s arch rival, so here’s your chance to nominate the next worst team in collegiate football.

All team nominations should be accompanied by cash donations in small bills. 1 I can’t guarantee outcomes but you have 33 years of unblemished reputation to assuage your doubts. Trust me, it’s in the bag.

  1. To calculate the suggested donation for your team of choice: (total # of wins for the five previous seasons x 5) – 10 for schools with a change in head coach within the last two years x (# of National Championships + # of Conference Championships + # of Heisman Trophy winners from the last 10 years) = suggested donation in USD. Nominations for the following teams will incur double the suggested donation to cover the cost of post-game vomit bags and psychotherapy: Florida Gators, Tennessee Volunteers, and Texas Longhorns. ↩
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