Well.
The final score didn’t go the way I hoped.
But you know what? It was one of my favorite weekends ever.
The Aggies scared them. Coach Sumlin took ten years off Nick Saban’s life. The crowd at Kyle Field was AMAZING. Johnny Manziel had the kind of insane moments that only Johnny Football can have. And Mike Evans? Is a MAN among boys.
I realize it was a loss, but in a lot of ways it felt like a big win. Because the Aggies are part of the best conference in college football and played within one touchdown of a team that is highly likely to play for a third consecutive national championship this year. A team they beat last year, by the way.
It was just five years ago that I had to endure watching my beloved Aggies lose to Arkansas State. So a loss by one touchdown to the defending National Champions? Doesn’t feel too bad.
Gulley and I left town with our tires squealing a little after 1:00 on Friday afternoon. I’d made us a road trip mix on Spotify for the trip and yes of course it included some TLC and Boyz II Men. We also may have had a sing along to Karyn White’s “Superwoman” which was one of our original bonds over twenty-something years ago.
We made a stop for a Diet Coke right outside Bastrop and then made the decision to drive through Taco Bell for some crispy beef tacos. My culinary shame will only be compounded when I also admit that I’d driven through Whataburger earlier that morning for a sausage and egg taquito. Apparently I felt like a trip back to College Station meant that I should also eat like a college student for the weekend.
Around 4:00 we arrived in College Station and felt like we needed to make at stop at The Chicken. It seemed like the right thing to do and we wanted to soak up all the pre-game atmosphere and excitement. In case you’re a former student and are wondering, The Chicken smells the same as it always did. A combination of stale beer and regret.
We stayed for a while, ran into some old friends and talked to several Alabama fans who happened to be some of the nicest fans ever. That was a big takeaway from the weekend. Every Alabama fan we encountered was gracious and mentioned how much they loved being in College Station and seeing all the Aggie traditions first hand. Also, Alabama fans wear some crazy clothes. I saw more than a fair share of khaki pants with elephants embroidered on them.
Gulley and I left The Chicken around 6:30 because we are old and really have little interest in being out after dark. We drove to Honey and Big’s house where Honey had a huge spread of food that included chicken salad and strawberry cake from Newk’s. It was an abundance of riches.
But what made it even better was the presence of Uncle Johnny and Aunt Diane along with Gulley’s other uncles, Robert and Jim. I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard. Gulley and I debated going to Midnight Yell Practice for about five minutes but decided against it because it would have been 2 a.m. before we got back home and we wanted to be at our best and brightest for the game because Coach Sumlin needed us. We felt like the entire outcome of the game might rest on whether or not we yelled loud enough and Mamaw needed to pace herself. I’m not 21 anymore. Or 31. Or 41 for that matter.
It should come as no surprise that I popped out of bed at 7:00 a.m. Saturday morning with an energy level that could only be rivaled by a feral cat after an overdose of Sudafed and four cups of coffee. Except I wasn’t that calm.
Gulley and I got dressed for the game and Robert and Jim drove us and dropped us off on campus approximately six hours before kickoff. We spent those six hours walking across campus, going to the ESPN Gameday set, buying bottled water at the MSC, sharing our opinions on various outfits, visiting tailgates, trying in vain to text various people because AT&T is completely worthless at Kyle Field and finally making our way to our seats about thirty minutes before kickoff.
(Please note that I underwent a hair progression. From down and curled. To ponytail. To who am I kidding it’s time for a baseball cap.)
We walked up to our seats in a sea of maroon and I will tell you that I have never been hotter in my life. The weathermen had tried to sell us on the fact a cold front had blown in earlier in the day dropping the temps from 96 to a crisp, cool 94. But it felt like it was at least 145 degrees. I saw people using paper plates from tailgates as fans. And I bought myself a giant cup of ice before I walked to my seat. I used it as both a beverage and a personal cooling device for most of the first quarter.
The game started and I don’t know that I’ve ever yelled so loud. I told Gulley I’d feel like I’d failed if I still had a voice after the game and so we gave it our everything. We cheered and yelled and jumped up and down. At one point in the fourth quarter after Johnny Manziel threw that 95 yard pass to Mike Evans, the guy sitting next to me said, “I think he might be a witch”.
And I need to give a special shout out to the man in white at the corner of the upper endzone who took it upon himself to lead the entire student section in multiple rounds of “Beat the hell outta Alabama”. Kudos to you, sir. It made my whole day.
Then we just ran out of time. But I wanted to see a great game and that’s exactly what every fan got. A heart-stopping, nail-biting game. At one point I admit I might have prayed, “Lord, you parted the Red Sea. Surely you can help our defense get a stop on 3rd and 5.”
The Aggies played their guts out and never gave up and I can’t ask for more than that. And Gulley and I got a great girls’ weekend out of the whole thing. It was all a win.
After sitting in traffic for an hour, we made it back to Honey and Big’s house. I took a shower that will rank as one of my top five ever and debated whether or not I should just burn the clothes I wore to the game. We all stayed up way too late talking but it was one of those times when you hate to go to bed because you know it will be all over when you wake up in the morning.
And so it was.