I was introduced to this game back in 1981 while attending Eastern Illinois University. I had talked a friend of mine into joining me for an insane road/plane trip to Dallas in the middle of the semester to visit a friend who attended SMU. I guess I was a little impulsive...anyway, I was in a frat house on a Saturday wondering why everybody was watching this game. Texas and who are playing? What is the big deal?
Fast forward a year. I am now a student at The University of Texas and I am once again in Dallas. I now sleep on the floor at that frat house at SMU for the weekend, but now I am going to the game with my roommates. Texas loses the game. As I am leaving the stadium, an Oklahoma fan jokingly says to me, "I'll give you a nickel for that shirt." (I had on a Texas t-shirt) Since I was already almost bawling because they lost, this hit a nerve.
The next year, I was in Dallas once again at the game, and this time Texas won. I searched high and low for that Oklahoma fan who had injured my pride the year before...but no sign of him. So, it has been GAME ON ever since. I do not like them and they do not like me. (I got into it today with some Sooner fans on facebook, imagine that...)
There was a particular player in the 80's at Oklahoma who embodied this rivalry. His name was Brian Bosworth (We called him Bozo-worth because he was such a clown.) The guy was from Texas, but played for Oklahoma. He wore a Mohawk and wrote weird messages on his shoes about his dislike for the Longhorns. Problem was Oklahoma was pretty good when he was there and they were able to back up the taunting. I remember feeling rather helpless as then #1 Oklahoma pounded Texas. All the Sooner fans were rabidly giving the upside down Hook'em Horns hand signal. It was ugly. I remember telling myself that someday, Texas would be better and beat those stinking Sooners.
I think it took like 5 years, but Texas did finally win again. I jumped for joy when a player named Johnny Walker caught a touchdown pass with like a minute to play to beat them.
Since then, the series has gone back and forth with each team winning in streaks. The last streak was 5 in a row by Oklahoma back when people called Mack Brown "Mr. February", a nickname given to a great recruiter, but poor coach. At the same time, Oklahoma's coach Bob Stoops got the nickname "Big Game Bob", as he enjoyed his success over the Longhorns.
But Texas has won 4 of the last 5 games with a National Title thrown in there for good measure in 2005, so Oklahoma fans are hungry for victory now more than ever. Texas fans found out last week that our run of excellence has come to an end. So now, not only does OU SUCK, but Texas sucks as well. Should be an interesting game. Might be a 49-0 butt kicking by OU, might not. As an old-timer from Oklahoma once told me in a bar on a Friday Night in Dallas on OU Weekend, "We'll see tomorrow on the field son." How true.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Flying Monkeys
It's over. The recent run of excellence for Texas football is over. It had to happen someday and that day was today down in Austin. The fall from grace was sudden and swift like an accident nobody saw coming. The entire program imploded right before our eyes. This team could not hold up to the weight of expectation and greatness any longer. They quite simply cracked. They came apart at the seams like the scarecrow in the wizard of oz, the invincibility aura torn to pieces by the flying monkeys of UCLA. It was an ugly sight.
In this media era of untruths fabricated to look like reality, the team showed it's hand and there was nothing behind those pair of deuces showing. There was no miracle comeback in the works for this one, no all-time NCAA wins leader to rescue the sinking ship. And it sunk like the Titanic.
Head Coach Mack Brown looked as white as a ghost. Defensive Coordinator Will Muschamp looked like he was watching a horror movie, he was. In a game where the Texas players bodies had no heads or hands on them, they were easily beaten. Nothing fancy, just a straight up whipping like we haven't seen since I can't remember when.
The run is over. The dominance enjoyed by Texas fans for so many years is over, for now. This season will be painful to watch. Gone are the days of Vince Young and Colt McCoy, long gone.
It was a very weird feeling watching the ineptness and one that Texas fans haven't had to endure for years. But there it was, that sick feeling in the pit of your stomach as your team beat nobody but themselves. There were fumbles, interceptions, missed tackles, and a general disinterest in preserving the tradition at The University of Texas. Yes, I am questioning the effort here folks as well. Oh the horror, I can't believe I just wrote that!
We Texas fans have become so complacent with winning that none of us saw this coming, or we just kept telling ourselves that somebody would step up, that superman was in the building, he wasn't, but over 100,000 fans were and they witnessed the beating in person. Ouch! 13 years ago was the worst loss ever in Austin at the hands of these very same Bruins. Double Ouch! This revenge that never came is unheard of in Texas football lore.
There will be no spin for me on this one. It quite simply was the end. The end of an image of a top caliber college football team, of a top 5, top 10, or even top 25 team...it is bad folks, really bad.
The last time something like this happened, Mack Brown quite literally said that every position on the team was up for grabs and that nobodies job was safe. I expect the same line of thought any second now coming out of Austin. How could this happen?
A team with no running backs, no tight ends, no offensive line, no sure handed receivers, no proven winners, how could they stink up the field so badly at home on national tv? I guess our Jimmy's and Joe's aren't as good as their x's and o's.
Reality was a hard thing to watch today...and next week we get to play Oklahoma in Dallas...oh my gosh...
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Color-ado
Finding color in the state of Color-ado is sometimes a bit of a challenge. Those of us who live here are all too aware that our geography can be a little bland. Oh sure we have beautiful blue skies a lot and the contrast of the snow capped mountains is breathtaking, but in late summer most rocks are grey or brown and our semi-arid climate bakes the annual vegetation into a wheat color. Fortunately, there are aspen trees in the high country to quench our thirst for color when September rolls around.So I visited the high country yesterday in search of fall color. I had to climb up into the hills to get a better view of the gold rush. The country was very rugged with boulders and dead trees. Then, I spotted them, dead ahead. Brilliant gold and yellow tassels waving in the wind.
As I got closer, the aspen leaves gave off a distinct smell. If firewood burning is the smell of winter in the mountains and a cool snow melt breeze is the smell of spring and wildflowers are the smell of summer, then aspen leaves are surely the smell of fall.
I am alone on the mountainside as I capture my moments of color. I look up and enjoy the contrast of the gold leaves with the blue sky. Time seems to slow down. I enjoy the moment. There is warm sunshine on my face. The soft breeze cools my skin just a little. The sound of rustling leaves surrounds me.
After a while, it is time to head back down the hill. But like the promise of spring after a long winter, I too will return to see next year's show.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Dumbfounded
My wife and step daughter are dumbfounded. They don't get it. Why do I bother to watch Texas play college football games? As they see it, I am not enjoying the experience.
Just last night, I was glued to the television as my beloved Longhorns were struggling to win a football game. I was dumbfounded at how inept my team was playing. How can a team with the ways and means of a powerhouse like Texas, play so poorly? What are these kids, human?
I do not enjoy it when they lose. I do not enjoy it when they win, but not by the odds makers in Las Vegas point spread prediction. I do not enjoy it when they play an over matched opponent and look mediocre winning the game. Why?
It has got me to thinking. What is it exactly that bothers me? Is it the potential of greatness unfulfilled or is it my unbalanced allegiance to a team, whose results which I cannot control, I illogically feel good or bad about?
When I was a student at Texas, I would attend home games and yell until I was horse and clap my hands until they were numb. For some reason, I felt I was able to will the team to victory by my fan-dumb. So, it is no surprise to me that I yell at the television set during games. My step daughter reminds me quite often that "they can't hear you!" and "will you stop!". My wife then chimes in with, "I don't know why you watch these games, you don't enjoy it." Yes I do.
It just appears that I am living and dying with each incomplete pass, each fumble, each missed tackle, each bonehead play call, each time perfection is not attained. And maybe I am. It's just not in my nature to passively sit in front of the television and act like I just got a lobotomy. In the end, I win exactly nothing.
To some men, a sports team that they follow becomes a small part of them. What the team does in some strange way reflects what they are or maybe what they wished they were capable of. Maybe in watching the possibility of something great happening each Saturday, we validate our humanity in realizing our limitations. Maybe my frustration is ultimately not with the team and their performance, but in my life and what I can or cannot control.
Just last night, I was glued to the television as my beloved Longhorns were struggling to win a football game. I was dumbfounded at how inept my team was playing. How can a team with the ways and means of a powerhouse like Texas, play so poorly? What are these kids, human?
I do not enjoy it when they lose. I do not enjoy it when they win, but not by the odds makers in Las Vegas point spread prediction. I do not enjoy it when they play an over matched opponent and look mediocre winning the game. Why?
It has got me to thinking. What is it exactly that bothers me? Is it the potential of greatness unfulfilled or is it my unbalanced allegiance to a team, whose results which I cannot control, I illogically feel good or bad about?
When I was a student at Texas, I would attend home games and yell until I was horse and clap my hands until they were numb. For some reason, I felt I was able to will the team to victory by my fan-dumb. So, it is no surprise to me that I yell at the television set during games. My step daughter reminds me quite often that "they can't hear you!" and "will you stop!". My wife then chimes in with, "I don't know why you watch these games, you don't enjoy it." Yes I do.
It just appears that I am living and dying with each incomplete pass, each fumble, each missed tackle, each bonehead play call, each time perfection is not attained. And maybe I am. It's just not in my nature to passively sit in front of the television and act like I just got a lobotomy. In the end, I win exactly nothing.
To some men, a sports team that they follow becomes a small part of them. What the team does in some strange way reflects what they are or maybe what they wished they were capable of. Maybe in watching the possibility of something great happening each Saturday, we validate our humanity in realizing our limitations. Maybe my frustration is ultimately not with the team and their performance, but in my life and what I can or cannot control.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Unemployment Dilemma
I am currently unemployed. I was a Chief Estimator for a commercial general contractor before I got laid off. The dilemma I have run into is that if I am lucky enough to find another job, any job, the money earned will be deducted from the amount of unemployment I am eligible to receive. It turns out that I am eligible to receive roughly half of my normal take home pay. So unless I get a job paying a minimum of say $18 per hour, I will actually be getting less money by working?!
Being unemployed is no longer a what's-wrong-with-you type of thing. Like a divorce or getting some counseling, people accept the reality of it these days. There are roughly 14,900,000 people unemployed in this country today. Let me restate that. There are nearly 15 MILLION people out of work and looking for a job.
People are desperately searching for a job these days. Applying for ANY job has become the norm in today's job market, no matter if you are qualified for the position or not. There is also a large pool of overqualified workers flooding the market and competing for the few job openings that are available.
Most employers that are hiring are overwhelmed with the volume of responses to their job openings making your chances of being hired even more remote. And recruiters who used to find and weed out candidates for employers aren't being used because businesses can't afford to use them, especially for the lower paying jobs.
Today, there are jobs to be had, but the majority of them are jobs that pay $12 per hour or lower. So what do you do? If you can even get one, do you take a dead-end job that you are way over qualified for?
I am required to keep a work log for my unemployment. A work log is a record of your work search while you collect unemployment. A job contact in your work log can be a phone call, an e-mail, a resume, a job application and/or a job interview. You are required to make 5 contacts per week in my state in order to be eligible to collect unemployment.
My first entry in my work log is dated May 26, 2009. For the next 68 weeks, I have logged 670 contacts in my quest to secure a job. 68 weeks times 5 equals 340 mandatory contacts. I have exceeded my requirement by 330 contacts and I am no closer to gainful employment than when I started.
As I write this, it all sounds like science fiction to me. The economy is bad. Our outlook is bleak. We need to get a hold of ourselves. We are Americans. We need to improvise, adapt, and overcome. But when? Perhaps after the election in November...
Being unemployed is no longer a what's-wrong-with-you type of thing. Like a divorce or getting some counseling, people accept the reality of it these days. There are roughly 14,900,000 people unemployed in this country today. Let me restate that. There are nearly 15 MILLION people out of work and looking for a job.
People are desperately searching for a job these days. Applying for ANY job has become the norm in today's job market, no matter if you are qualified for the position or not. There is also a large pool of overqualified workers flooding the market and competing for the few job openings that are available.
Most employers that are hiring are overwhelmed with the volume of responses to their job openings making your chances of being hired even more remote. And recruiters who used to find and weed out candidates for employers aren't being used because businesses can't afford to use them, especially for the lower paying jobs.
Today, there are jobs to be had, but the majority of them are jobs that pay $12 per hour or lower. So what do you do? If you can even get one, do you take a dead-end job that you are way over qualified for?
I am required to keep a work log for my unemployment. A work log is a record of your work search while you collect unemployment. A job contact in your work log can be a phone call, an e-mail, a resume, a job application and/or a job interview. You are required to make 5 contacts per week in my state in order to be eligible to collect unemployment.
My first entry in my work log is dated May 26, 2009. For the next 68 weeks, I have logged 670 contacts in my quest to secure a job. 68 weeks times 5 equals 340 mandatory contacts. I have exceeded my requirement by 330 contacts and I am no closer to gainful employment than when I started.
As I write this, it all sounds like science fiction to me. The economy is bad. Our outlook is bleak. We need to get a hold of ourselves. We are Americans. We need to improvise, adapt, and overcome. But when? Perhaps after the election in November...
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
The Summer Wind
Horsetooth Reservoir is just west of Fort Collins, CO. It covers 1900 acres and is 6.5 miles long.
31 August 2010 - Horsetooth Reservoir, Fort Collins, CO
I loaded the kayak onto the Jeep around noon and headed off to the lake (reservoir). It was the last day of August. I had been kayaking all summer long and this was to be a sort of farewell to summer paddle. No agenda really, just fun in the sun. When I put in at the dock at the south end of the lake at South Bay, it was 12:40 pm.
There was a nice breeze blowing from the south and the lake was virtually empty of motor boat traffic. I decided to paddle into the middle of the lake and let the wind carry me where it may. Where it may is a bad combination with an I want to go on an adventure today attitude.
I was sailing away down the lake checking out the shoreline as I went. There were now exposed sandy beach areas that had been covered by water months before. I saw sandstone boulder formations and dams with roads on top of them.
Since it was a relatively cool day for the last day of August, I had not brought any water with me...note to self...not a good idea in Colorado on any day of the year. The sun was bright and warm and I was enjoying the day. Normally, I would paddle just enough to realize that I had to paddle just as far back. Today was different. Today I just felt like seeing how far to the north I could go.
After about 2 hours, I began to recognize the surroundings of the north end of the reservoir. Wow, that south wind must have really been pushing me. I began to get excited. I was going to paddle all the way from the south end to the north end of the lake, cool.
Since I was tiring, my mind began to start to rationalize a minor detail, that of how I was going to get back to the south end of the lake. There was a pay station at the north end and maybe I could get the ranger to give me a lift back to my vehicle at the south end, 6.5 miles away. Or maybe a friend of mine could come and give me a lift. Either way, I was close to the north end and I was going to make it.
I docked my kayak at 3:03 pm. The whole place was empty. The sign said nobody works here on Mondays and Tuesdays, doo! Plan B. Nobody answers my phone call, double doo! What am I gonna do now? My wife was working a 12 hour shift and my step daughter was at a movie with her dad. Son, you are either going to ask a stranger for a ride or paddle back 6.5 miles against the wind and with shoulders and arms that are feeling it already...I did not like this option one bit.
Time waits for no one and the afternoon was moving right along. My mind was like...hey buddy, you just paddled the entire length of the lake with a stiff breeze at you back and it took you 2 hours and 23 minutes. How long do you think this is gonna take going against the wind and waves with tired body in tact and 6.5 miles in front of you?
3:53 pm. I push away from the dock and tell myself that I need to pick small incremental goals and just not think about the task at hand. My shoulders are telling me that this is not my idea of a good time.
I select targets on the horizon to aim for like: buoys, rock outcroppings, trees, and fishing boats. The sun is bothering me as I failed to bring a hat as well. I am grateful for the shadows on the lake as the afternoon wears on. I realize that no one is going to offer me a tow, after all I am out for a bit of exercise, aren't I? I paddle on.
I begin to think about having hot dogs and a beer when I am finished. By this time, I have begun to count my stokes to keep my mind off my pain. Counting to 100 seems to work and I press on. People on the lake fishing say hello as I pass by. I am making progress.
The south end's familiar surroundings come into view and I am close to being done. I continue to count as I dock at the south end. At 6:02 pm it is over. Surprisingly, I make it back in 2 hours and 9 minutes.
I throw the kayak up on the Jeep and tie it down and am home by 6:45 pm.
Because of errands and other duties, I would not get those hot dogs and a beer I had been hallucinating about until well after 9:00 pm. It is then that it begins to sink in that I had paddled the equivalent of a half marathon on this last day of August both with and against the summer wind.
31 August 2010 - Horsetooth Reservoir, Fort Collins, CO
I loaded the kayak onto the Jeep around noon and headed off to the lake (reservoir). It was the last day of August. I had been kayaking all summer long and this was to be a sort of farewell to summer paddle. No agenda really, just fun in the sun. When I put in at the dock at the south end of the lake at South Bay, it was 12:40 pm.
There was a nice breeze blowing from the south and the lake was virtually empty of motor boat traffic. I decided to paddle into the middle of the lake and let the wind carry me where it may. Where it may is a bad combination with an I want to go on an adventure today attitude.
I was sailing away down the lake checking out the shoreline as I went. There were now exposed sandy beach areas that had been covered by water months before. I saw sandstone boulder formations and dams with roads on top of them.
Since it was a relatively cool day for the last day of August, I had not brought any water with me...note to self...not a good idea in Colorado on any day of the year. The sun was bright and warm and I was enjoying the day. Normally, I would paddle just enough to realize that I had to paddle just as far back. Today was different. Today I just felt like seeing how far to the north I could go.
After about 2 hours, I began to recognize the surroundings of the north end of the reservoir. Wow, that south wind must have really been pushing me. I began to get excited. I was going to paddle all the way from the south end to the north end of the lake, cool.
Since I was tiring, my mind began to start to rationalize a minor detail, that of how I was going to get back to the south end of the lake. There was a pay station at the north end and maybe I could get the ranger to give me a lift back to my vehicle at the south end, 6.5 miles away. Or maybe a friend of mine could come and give me a lift. Either way, I was close to the north end and I was going to make it.
I docked my kayak at 3:03 pm. The whole place was empty. The sign said nobody works here on Mondays and Tuesdays, doo! Plan B. Nobody answers my phone call, double doo! What am I gonna do now? My wife was working a 12 hour shift and my step daughter was at a movie with her dad. Son, you are either going to ask a stranger for a ride or paddle back 6.5 miles against the wind and with shoulders and arms that are feeling it already...I did not like this option one bit.
Time waits for no one and the afternoon was moving right along. My mind was like...hey buddy, you just paddled the entire length of the lake with a stiff breeze at you back and it took you 2 hours and 23 minutes. How long do you think this is gonna take going against the wind and waves with tired body in tact and 6.5 miles in front of you?
3:53 pm. I push away from the dock and tell myself that I need to pick small incremental goals and just not think about the task at hand. My shoulders are telling me that this is not my idea of a good time.
I select targets on the horizon to aim for like: buoys, rock outcroppings, trees, and fishing boats. The sun is bothering me as I failed to bring a hat as well. I am grateful for the shadows on the lake as the afternoon wears on. I realize that no one is going to offer me a tow, after all I am out for a bit of exercise, aren't I? I paddle on.
I begin to think about having hot dogs and a beer when I am finished. By this time, I have begun to count my stokes to keep my mind off my pain. Counting to 100 seems to work and I press on. People on the lake fishing say hello as I pass by. I am making progress.
The south end's familiar surroundings come into view and I am close to being done. I continue to count as I dock at the south end. At 6:02 pm it is over. Surprisingly, I make it back in 2 hours and 9 minutes.
I throw the kayak up on the Jeep and tie it down and am home by 6:45 pm.
Because of errands and other duties, I would not get those hot dogs and a beer I had been hallucinating about until well after 9:00 pm. It is then that it begins to sink in that I had paddled the equivalent of a half marathon on this last day of August both with and against the summer wind.
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