A Chicken Sandwich Didn’t Ruin My Day
I’m sure we can all agree that Saturday was hard to take.
As the game finished, I sat there for six hours. Motionless. Distraught. (OK, it was probably only a few minutes, or seconds, but it felt like a lifetime).
All I wanted to do was go to Denny’s, order half the menu and eat/cry myself to sleep.
I didn’t though. Because that would be a bit weird, tragic and also pretty expensive.
Instead, I ate a couple of steak fajitas in a dark Mexican eatery. Probably a close second in the tragedy rankings behind a visit to Denny’s. I insisted that all sharp objects should be kept at an arms length.
It turned out to be the perfect place to reflect on some things.
I know it’s apparent that I have an almost unhealthy obsession with a certain chap called Johnny Manziel, but seriously, how lucky are we to get to call him an Aggie? We may never see someone like Johnny in college football again, let alone in maroon and white. Seeing his reaction to the defeat on Saturday hit me the hardest.
All the so-called ‘experts’ that had questioned his leadership, motivation and attitude can now quite frankly, sit down and shut up.
He was effectively throwing with an arm that had just been sat on by a big 300lb dude. I can tell you from experience, that hurts. And no, I’m not going to disclose the details of how it happened to me. Some things are best left unsaid.
Look how far A&M have come though. I know that viewpoint is small change to some, but at the beginning of last year, people were saying that A&M would do well to win one game in the SEC. Now look at us, we’re serious contenders in every game.
People will say ‘yeah but Manziel, Evans, Matthews etc will be off soon’. Yes, maybe. But every college has the same problem. We’re not the only one. And who do you want at the helm to make sure that the transition is smooth? Who do you trust? I know who I trust. His name is Kevin ‘damn’ Sumlin.
Keep calm people. Texas A&M was named the ‘Happiest College in the US’ last week. Although if you had asked a few if they were happy on Saturday evening, I think you’d need a pretty decent swear-filter.
Away from the serious stuff, a few other things came to light in my hours of deep/Samuel Adams OctoberFest induced thoughts.
Firstly, I don’t like the style of Matt Joeckel’s helmet.
Secondly, I harbor an extreme hatred for Gus Malzahn and I don’t really know why. Even before we played them, I’d seen him on TV a few times and thought he came across as a bit of a knob.
Thirdly, I never want to hear the words ‘horse collar’ again. Typing it now just hurt.
Other than that, the usual bile filled my brain such as the realization that Hank from Breaking Bad looks like a fat Bruce Willis.
Likewise, I reflected on the golf course that sits near the A&M campus. Strange thing to reflect on huh? I even impress myself sometimes.
Well, I’ll tell you why it entered my consciousness. I must have walked past that golf course at least fifty times. Have I ever seen anyone playing a sophisticated round of nine or eighteen holes? No. Not a sausage. Although a sausage playing golf is something I’d probably pay to see.
And yet, it always looks pristine. Is it hoping that one day the PGA tour might just stumble across it and decide to use it? That wouldn’t be a problem, it’s not like there would be a queue or a rowdy group of four going slow that holds people up. Clear fairways all around.
Finally, I shall leave you with an observation that I’ve recently made. It greatly amuses me how at a sporting event, you can be sat next to a lovely person who seems extremely nice, doesn’t make a fuss if you need to get up and get a beverage and shares some charming thoughts on the game.
A t shirt or sandwich is thrown into the crowd by some organization such as Chick-fil-A or Subway. Everyone deep down knows that they have just witnessed a game changer. The mask and gloves come off. Carnage. All out war. It’s everyone for themselves.
I had to dodge about six elbows last week at the Verizon Center as people clambered for some $3 chicken sandwiches. The guy next to me got a hand to one but fumbled it. It was recovered by a man sat to his right. Both his feet were down. It was a fair catch. No penalty flag needed to be thrown.
The dude that missed out on the chicken goodness couldn’t let it go. Before that outburst of anarchy, he seemed like a personable fellow. Now though, he was seething. As the interceptor devoured his sarnie, the angry chap and I got a whiff of the chicken. It didn’t help proceedings. I could sense the fuming man burning up inside. Meanwhile, I was basking in the lunacy of it all.
That story has helped put the defeat to Auburn into perspective. Yes, I was devastated that we lost. But at the end of it all, my day wasn’t ruined by the fact I had missed out on a chicken sandwich. And I for one, take great solace in that fact.
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