Tom Herman is the “new guy” around here, so consequently, he needs a translator. Since I’ve been occupying this particular space for more than 12 years now, I’m uniquely qualified for the role, and am thus hiring myself. You’re welcome.
The video is about 21 minutes long, and probably best viewed in fast forward, without audio. Three very serious men in dark blazers, sitting behind a clean blue table, are reading apologies, looking for all the world like they wish they could strip off their blazers and head to The Grove for a julep.
Guy V. Lewis sat at his desk and crammed his old hand into a cooler of ice, fishing out a frigid can of beer, wiping off the residue and cracking open his post-game elixir with the obligatory “ker-SHUSH.”
Your high school son – let’s call him Luke – is 6-3, 215 pounds and can throw a football with the violence of John Elway and the touch of Tom Brady. He’s good-looking like his momma, who he loves dearly, of course. He’s smart, too, a teammate more coveted than ice cream in July.
The football coaching storyline at the University of Texas hasn’t been demonstrably altered for more than 50 years now.
Nick Saban will lose. Yes, I know, it’s actually Alabama (the team) and not Saban (the individual) who is facing Clemson Monday night for the national championship. But Saban has become so monolithic, so omnipresent, so…SABAN…that really, most people usually talk about how impossible it is to beat Saban, primarily. Oh, and also, Alabama.
Unofficially, the college football season for UT fans ended when the Kansas field goal flew between the uprights in Lawrence, sending three dozen Jayhawk fans into a charge-the-field frenzy. Despite hell freezing over that night, the sun did, in fact, rise the next day.
The weather was mild according to the locals in Manhattan, Kansas, on Saturday, December 1, 2012. High of 57; low of 39. Downright balmy. ‘Tis the season.
‘Twas also the season – like all seasons in Manhattan since 2002 – for the Texas Longhorns to get beat on the football field. Time and again, basically every other year, the “better on paper” Longhorns travel to Manhattan – through Kansas City of course – for their spanking from daddy, better-known as Kansas State coach Bill Snyder.
Primarily, changes in tackling. As in, the Texas defense needs to change from not tackling to, umm, tackling. Changes in defensive personnel. Changes in third down, get-the-offense-off-the-field performance. Big-time changes to prevent the opposing offenses from gaining yardage by the mile.
Stop eating so fast. Stop checking your phone. Stop riding so close to that guy’s bumper. Stop listening to talk radio. Stop snapping at everybody. Stop. Every year at this time, since I started this gig in the spring of 2006, I write this column. The Texas Longhorns have a predictable way of causing their fans to consider jumping off tall buildings.