(NOTE: This is a comment from a one-word post. The comment is from Maukavelli, a longtime BlogHawgs reader and friend. I agree with most of it, but more than anything, I wanted to re-post it because it does something I cannot at this point–provide a rational response to the 41-17 Arkansas loss at LSU Friday. I am sure I will rally this week, but on a day when a 19-year old Razorback is going to be buried, and just a few days after whiffing on a chance to punch a ticket to Arkansas’ first gridiron National Championship in 47 years, I, much like the Hogs in the 2nd half in Baton Rouge, have nothing left in the tank, emotionally right now. Yes, I am a 35-year-old man, and it was a football game, and I know this note is uber dramatic.)
(Special to BlogHawgs by Maukavelli)
All weekend long, I’ve been trying to think of something… anything… to say. “Uggghhh” surely described my feelings, particularly about the time that Honey Badger was returning the punt and basically ended the game.
As the time went on in the 2nd half, I was equal parts irritated (mostly at the incompetence of CBS Sports, Vince Lindquist, and Gene Danielsman – SERIOUSLY, you only need a foot down, not a knee or an elbow. It’s not a difficult call. They’ve had that rule since, oh, about 1870), angry (at the inability to stop the run, the possibility that Les was rubbing it in while flinging it down field with 5 minutes to play, at my family members who tried to downplay a 24 point score differential, and just about anyone posting on Facebook or Twitter lamenting the loss), and despondent (Is this it? Will we ever be good enough?).
I argued with people on FB about why we shouldn’t be disappointed with the Cotton Bowl, all-the-while not really believing my own argument. I avoided the major message boards, because I knew that the full-on nuke-u-lar Razorback Nation meltdown had begun.
And I giggled when BMFP blew off Miles in the handshake, only Miles didn’t understand why. But mostly, I just stewed. I let it fester inside, not really wanting to talk about it, just letting it bubble inside, creating a chasm-wide burning sensation that had I gotten in college would have made me seek medical attention and some cream.
And then I woke up Saturday morning. The sky was blue. The birds were singing. My kids seemed happy, oblivious to the fact that my team… no… OUR TEAM had lost it’s biggest game in 42 years and of my lifetime. Confusion reigned because I didn’t expect things to seem so…so…so… normal.
My brain struggled to grasp things on Saturday, so I watched a little more football and quickly realized that of almost all the games on Saturday afternoon, OUR HOGS would beat nearly every team by at least two touchdowns. Sloppy football prevailed. QB’s missed receivers by 10 yards. Running backs fell down or missed the hole completely. Tacklers bounced off tackles like my kids in a bounce-house.
And then Michigan beat Ohio State, and for a few moments, order was restored in college football (well, at least for those of us who have a slight allegiance to a second team). It didn’t restore everything, but I felt a tad better – still bitter inside at the burning sensation. Still lamenting the lost opportunity. Still hating all things purple-and-gold. Still going through the “what-if” scenarios and wishing that Saban had never left MSU and brought honor (and a decent recruiting philosophy) to Red Stick. But better nonetheless.
Playing outside with the kids, I watching the joy in their faces, and saw their innocence about sports, our society, and our world. For those with kids, you know what I mean. Protecting them from the kind of hurt that came on Friday is my ultimate job. So I wished, for a few moments, that they’d never become sports fans.
And then a funny thing happened on Sunday… My wife suggested I get out of the house by myself, for nothing else than to clear my head. I volunteered to do the grocery shopping, figuring a trip to WalMart was just what I needed to do to restore my faith in humanity (clearly, I’m insane).
Without thinking, I pulled on my nearest Razorback shirt, and left. And wouldn’t you know it, 3 minutes into the store, and someone says to me, “Man, I wish your boys had pulled it off the other day. I really don’t like those clowns from LSU, especially their coach. I think you guys are getting close.” I just smiled and said “thanks, me too.” and went on my way.
I realized then that maybe we are, in fact, getting close. Then a guy in an LSU shirt spied me, and said “Great game. You guys scare me. I honestly thought we were going to lose. I worry more about the Hogs in the near future than anyone else.” And I was so stunned, I didn’t know what to say, just muttering, “Well, we’ll see.”
But suddenly, my faith was restored in being a Razorback, and in loving sports. I realized that, like in Seattlehog’s post, the journey really is the most important thing about being a sports fan.
I’ve always maintained that being a sports fan is one of the most brutal things in life. Think about it. 99% of the time, your team doesn’t win “it” – whatever that is. Only one team can come out on top at the end, and the chances that it’s your team are pretty slim.
Even for the “legendary” teams, they lose a championship far more often than they win. But I realize that that’s what makes it fun. We hurt because we care. We invest in something tangible. Something real. Something that shouldn’t matter, but it does.
We get angry at the Penn State and Syracuse allegations. We loathe all things Texas and their arrogance and their money (although if they pay Saban $10 mil per, I may not be so mad).
We curse the names of Cameron Dollar, Toby Bailey, and Tyus Edney because we think know (Editor’s Note–*I* changed the wording, there) that was a fluke.
We suffer through consecutive 4-7 seasons hoping that things will turn, and when it does, we still get angry at the way it happened (Springdale 5 vs. Murry St Mafia, DMac getting hosed, and Reggie Fish). We get lampooned in the national media, then hit the jackpot with a coaching hire after almost choosing Muschamp (ask Florida how that’s working out) or Venables (nobody’s calling him, now are they?), only to get lampooned again because Arthur Blank lied and ESP*I*N cares more about a “story” than the truth.
But you know what? I’m proud to be a Razorback fan. I’m proud that these past two seasons have given us more than anything we could have hoped for.
I’m proud that we have a coach who gets angry at another coach for running it up, even if the media doesn’t remember that Petrino could have done it last year but didn’t, and even if I don’t necessarily agree with Petrino for either decision (I’m not entirely sold that Miles was trying to run it up, and I wish Petrino had gone for the easy touchdown in 2010 after the fumble at the goal line with a minute to play. But neither opinion is worth arguing over).
I’m proud that we have a QB who takes shot after shot and keeps on flinging it. I’m proud that our team rose up and stood tall with the best team in the country 5 days after one of their own was found dead in his dorm room due to a rare heart condition.
And while I know that we have some lunatic fans, I’m glad to know that most Razorback fans understand that what’s happening (the journey) really is important.
I hope people will show up in Dallas or Orlando or tune in in TV and cheer on this team to an 11 win season. Read that again. An 11 win season.
That’s quite a journey in my book.
Quarterback Tyler Wilson to Return to Arkansas for 2012 Season
Posted by Adam Butler on January 13, 2012
In recent days, All-SEC running back Knile Davis and play-making wide receiver Cobi Hamilton have announced their intentions to return to Arkansas for the 2012 season and forego the NFL Draft, as well.
We are very glad we were wrong on this. We can’t wait to get the band back together.
Posted in Commentary, Sports | Tagged: Arkansas Razorbacks, Cobi Hamilton, Knile Davis, Tyler Wilson | Leave a Comment »