Texas 7, Ohio State 24


You know that scene at the end of “Pee Wee’s Big Adventure” where the girl says, “Pee Wee, don’t you want to see the rest of the movie?” And he replies, “I don’t have to see it, Dottie. I lived it?” Well, after nine hours of full-tilt tailgating leading up to the Texas-Ohio State game, I’m starting to feel the same way about the movie “Beerfest,” as I’m pretty sure “I lived it.” So before we dive into "Shootout at DKR, Part 2 – Colt’s Waterloo,” I thought I’d share a few memorable moments from...

(Since I lost all track of time between 10 a.m. and the game last Saturday, I figured we’d mark the time with beers...)

Beer #1 Trying to start the morning off right with the Breakfast of Champions, a Bud Light, on the way to the tailgate, but I am a little concerned about the structural integrity of my retro 1950s Mother-Nature-is-my-bitch-Styrofoam cooler making all sorts of God-awful squeaking noises in the back of my buddy Clay’s Tahoe. After that last speed bump, I think I saw a piece of yellowish foam fall off the main fuselage, so I tell Clay to brace for reentry as we approach the outer limits of the Tailgate.

Beer #3 Unbelievably, the cooler and it’s precious cargo reach the tailgate and are now safely next to me as I assume the position under the tents in front of a brand new 45-inch flat screen TV that our hosts “rented” for the tailgate. Oh yeah, I’m sure the guys down at Aaron’s Rent-To-Own would appreciate the fact that their $4,000 TV now sits atop a card table with tons of wires running back and forth and 400 drunks walking around it. Vegas is setting the odds of the TV surviving the day at 1000 to 1, which is only slightly better than the odds my cooler is getting.

Beer #4 ESPN Gameday is on and I’m wondering how long it took Herbstreet to shellac his hair like that. Apparently “You can hair-do it and Kirk can help.”

Beer #6 This Bud’s for my buddy Nad and I’ll tell you why...we’ve been coming to this same spot at 18th and San Jacinto to tailgate for over 10 seasons now and on Tuesday night of last week (yeah, Tuesday night), some fraternity thought it would be a good bonding exercise if they sent their entire pledge class to our parking lot to cop a squat and reserve the whole damn thing for their alumni party on Saturday. Well, Nad, using his powers of persuasiveness, convinced said fraternity’s president to sub-lease our area of the parking lot back to us without getting put on double-secret probation.

Beer #8 Watching the Hokies absolutely tear the Tarheels a new one when I feel that unmistakable urge that no man wants to feel this early on game day. There’s no use fighting it, I’ve got to pee. As I do the walk of shame to take a whiz, Clay slaps me on the back and says, “Way to go Urinater,” and reminds me that nobody’s broken the seal this early before and lived to tell about it. It’s going to be a long day.

Beer #9 I celebrate my return from the sanitation box of fun with another beer and a big decision...do we watch OU vs. Washington or Notre Dame vs. Penn State. Both are on TV and, inexplicably, I have the remote. For the first time in my life, people have to respect me, just like that kid in 1st Grade who brought his Fisher Price Ghetto Blaster to Show-and-Tell. We’re talking serious power in the palm of my hands people.

Beer #12 If I hear one more person yell, “turn it back to the Notre Dame game,” I’m going to staple that dude’s mouth shut like they did to Charlie Weiss’ stomach. Believe me, you don’t want the remote in situations like this. Everybody hates you and blames you for everything from the chips and dip running out to the temperature. It’s like being President, except there’s no vacation and you can be impeached any second for even the slightest error. Hey anyone could accidentally switch over to the “Full House” Marathon on Nickelodeon. Honest mistake, really.

Beer #13 While reaching for yet another beer, I couldn’t help but notice a bottle of something called "Polar Ice" a friend of a friend had recently deposited in my cooler. Feeling frisky and unencumbered by the knowledge that thousands of penguins probably died to deliver this liter of Vodka to Texas, I helped myself...it was refreshing in a scorched earth sort of way. And after exfoliating the lining of my esophagus, I crawled back to the cooler to ask Bud Light for forgiveness and promised never to stray again.

Beer #15 Not only is there a line a mile long at the Port-O-Potties, but there’s now a huge line to take a piss in the creek that runs behind the Port-O-Potties.

Beer #16 Almost game time and only a few beers remain in the cooler when I look up to see a Buckeye fan I met at a party the night before. He asks me if he can have a cold one and promises to replace it with a dozen more when his friend gets back from their car. I’ve fallen for this trick before, but Deloss did ask Texas Fans to “Make Us Proud” and since I like looking at my Glasnost half full, I said, “sure, what the hell.” And wouldn’t you know it, not 20 minutes later, my cooler was full of Bud Light again. I’m pretty sure my Buckeye beer swap is the greatest trade since we got Manhattan Island from the Indians for a few blankets and a gallon of fire water.

Beer #18 The roady. My last beer before what I’m sure will be the best game of the season. Could it get any better than...

#1 VS. #2
Um, yeah. After Texas’ disheartening 24-7 home-loss to Ohio State and seeing how the pain in our hearts (and livers) won’t be going away anytime soon (especially when you consider UT closes out the month against Rice, Iowa State, and Bomar Tech), I thought a little Green Day would be appropriate. So...


The streak has come and passed.
The undefeated can never last.
Wake me up, when September ends.

Instead of running, the Bucks chose to pass,
Mack said the NCAA's new clock ran too fast.
Colt McCoy, couldn’t hit his tight ends.

Here comes the “fire Davis” talk again,
No Vince to save the day;
Here comes the bubble screen again,
Greg only knows two plays.

Thanks to Jim Tressel-vest,
Our championship hopes look lost.
Wake me up, when September ends.

I guess VY really ain’t coming back.
Our happiness could never last.
Sober up, before September ends.

Last week, I wrote my two biggest keys to the Ohio State game were winning the punting game and winning the turnover battle. The Horns held up their end of the bargain on the punts, keeping Teddy Ginn in check by not giving OSU short field situations, but the turnovers killed them. When you think about it, Pittman's fumble at the goal line and Colt’s interception deep in Texas territory lead directly to 10 Buckeye points. You take away those points and give UT the 7 they should’ve had, you got a 14-14 ballgame. Regardless, I think the Longhorns got beat by a better team, and to be honest, I’m not all that upset about UT’s first loss in 21 games. The streak was nice while it lasted, and I think we all knew it wouldn’t last forever. What is unfortunate, however, is the less than grand fashion it came to an end. Instead of watching an instant classic or anything closely resembling the epic battle Texas won at The Shoe in Columbus last year, the largest crowd ever to watch a game in the state of Texas witnessed a snooze fest most Longhorn fans would soon like to forget and most college football fans have already forgotten.

Instead of living up to the #1 vs. #2 colossal match-up of the year it was billed as, Royal-Memorial felt more like a veterinary clinic with 89,000 somber Texas fans sitting on their hands expecting the doctor to arrive any minute to put Bevo to sleep while secretly hoping Vince Young would arrive at the last second to stay the execution. Even the players seemed to play like they were waiting for VY to show up and snatch victory from the jaws of defeat as he’d done so many miraculous times before. But, of course, he never showed. If anything good can be salvaged from Saturday night, hopefully it’s that this sobering loss has slapped us out of our euphoric state and proven to both players and fans alike that Vince is gone and isn’t ever coming back. I know everyone knows it, but I’m not sure everyone feels it. It’s time to fully embrace the Colt McCoy era and start another streak with the...

Hate to admit it, but I miss the Rice teams from the days of the Southwest Conference. True, watching Rice’s triple-option was like getting a root canal sans Novocain, but from what I remember, the Owls of old would play Texas hard for at least the first two quarters and then challenge the Longhorns to a spelling bee at halftime. The Owls of late look so hopelessly overmatched they couldn’t spell relief if you spotted them a Rolaids. What Texas needs now is a challenge to get back on track and get McCoy some much needed confidence, not a scrimmage against the Vienna Boys' Choir and a false sense of security. How typical of a Texan fan to find something to complain about, but I can’t help but think Rice is nothing more than a placebo and the only thing we’ll find out Saturday night is whether Major Applewhite can pass as a Smurf in his Rice Owl uniform.

Longhorns 51
Nerd Herd Pi

Kick-off for the Rice game ("Mr. Owl, how many licks does it take to kick your ass") is scheduled for 5 p.m. (Early Bird Special), and fortunately for those of us not traveling to Houston this weekend (sorry Rudy, maybe next time), the game will be televised on ESPN2 (Don't drop the Deuce). As for those of you (Agent Burnt-Orange) attending the game (It’ll be a real Hoot), I recommend you arrive early (Premature embarkation) as traffic is usually pretty bad (Houston, you have a problem). If you’re planning on tailgating (Welcome to Bar Ajar), no problem, there is a seemingly endless (like this commentary) amount of parking spots around Reliant Stadium (The Power House).

At the tailgate:

"Where do take a piss around here?"
"We usually go over there in the creek bed?"
"There's like 60 dudes over there."
"Yeah, it's like Snakes on a bank."

(After losing to Ohio State), “Texas' early evening date with Rice this Saturday is like going out with your cousin the week after you blew it with the Homecoming Queen. There won't be much action, and you'll be home by ten.” - Bill Frisbie, InsideTexas.com



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