My son and I started a tradition recently of taking in one away game each year as we follow the
On Friday night we checked into our hotel, unpacked and then decided to venture out for some Tex Mex food. As we boarded the elevator we encountered a couple who were obvious
His wife was duded out in tight jeans (not Wrangler but something very designer-like) tucked into over the calf, spiked heel boots. Her burnt orange sweater was covered by a sleeveless, black vest coupled with some sort of fur around the collar.
As we entered the elevator, we were greeted with a friendly, “Hey, y’all, my name’s Bud and this is Norma—you
I muttered, “Yeah, he’s pretty good” but Bud had already moved on in his gushing about his stud senior. “Yeah, we had to come up to this game to see ol’ Colt and Jordan in their last one at home. I’m gonna shed a tear for those two young ‘uns tomorrow night—their parents have to be thrilled.” When I asked Bud where he and Norma were from, he said “Katy—outside of
At this point, the elevator doors opened and we tried to take our exit from Bud and Norma. But, Bud wasn’t finished. “You know, it’s too bad y’all up there in the Big 12 North can’t be a little more competitive. It’s sure lookin’ like the Big 12 championship game will be another blowout—I just hope we don’t get anybody hurt before we have to play Florida in the national championship game.” I replied to Bud that the North wasn’t too shabby, and said “If you remember, K-State beat you guys three years or so ago and ruined your title hopes.”
“Ah yeah, I know,” Bud said, “I know—but, c’mon son, that game was a joke. Major got hurt in that game or else we would’ve won…you know it and I know it.” Bud wasn’t finished as my
I was incredulous—here I was, standing in the lobby of a Marriott Courtyard in
“Uh, Bud, did you say ‘you should never have let us into the Big 12?’”
“Yeah, the damn administrators down here…we had a good thing going with the Southwest Conference but we needed to get rid of those brainiacs down at Rice, plus that ‘pig sooey’ crap up in
I stared at the departing Bud and Norma, too stunned to even consider a snappy rejoinder at the receding figures.
Don't mess with Texas, indeed...
(Editor’s note: This story is inspired by true events.)