2007 Holiday Bowl – UT 52, ASU 34
For those of you who weren't able to attend (or boycotted) the Holiday Bowl, I can’t say as I blame you. This season has been regrettable at worst and forgettable at best. But one thing I’ve noticed over the years following UT and still marvel at even now is the uncanny ability of the Longhorns to always find a way to make Texas fans believers all over again just when the majority of us are convinced all hope is lost and the team is at the precipice of irrevocable disaster. Longhorns fans rarely ever get exactly what they want, but they always seem to get what they need...to keep the faith.
And since most of my fellow Longhorn disciples weren’t on hand for what many pundits hailed as Mack’s requiem on the Escondido, I felt it incumbent upon me to provide you all with discourse of biblical proportions describing just what it was like the day the #19 Texas Longhorns crusaded into San Diego and returned to relevance by smiting the #12 Arizona State Sun Devils.
To tell the tale, I’ve enlisted a number of particularly telling quotes from my own personal gameday experience at the 2007 Holiday Bowl. As always the names have been withheld to protect the not-so innocent (and because we "can’t" recall who said them even if we wanted to). At least that's what I'll be telling the judge, the press, and my mother.
Without any further do-do, I give you...
STAYIN' CLASSY IN SAN DIEGO – A QUOTASTROPHE JUST WAITING TO HAPPEN
7 O’clock Hour – Hungover and operating on about four hours of sleep while lamenting some poor decision making in the GasLamp District the night before.
“Damn it, I left my credit card at that Moose McGillycuddy bar."
“Well, the moose out front should have told you...it was probably the tequila shots.”
“Shut up...wait, what, we had tequila shots last night?”
9 O’clock Hour – Every diehard Longhorn fan I know has a gameday routine based on some innocuous superstition. Some fans eat the same breakfast before every game, some won’t leave for the game until they’ve dropped the deuce in their lucky toilet, and some pat the bronze butt of Earl Campbell's statue outside DKR...me, I always go for a run no matter the weather, the location, or the hangover. True, your head hurts like hell with every step, but it helps with anxiety and you end up sweating out most of what you drank the night before.
“Where’d you go?”
“See anything good?”
“I ran into the Holiday Bowl Parade and saw a huge ass aircraft carrier.”
“There’s a parade for the Holiday Bowl...is it like the Rose Bowl?”
“No, it’s like Top Gun for band nerds.”
(Ring-ring) “Hey Sweety, what’s up?”
“Nothing, I just called because you forgot to call last night."
"How's San Diego?"
"Well, the weather’s awesome, I feel like I’m gonna hurl, and we’re on our way to some store called Ralph’s to buy more beer.”
11 O’clock Hour – Restored to a moderate level of lucidity, we embark for the game aided in no small part by a few wondrous technological advancements...unfortunately, as we’d soon learn, no amount of technology can reverse the effects of prolonged brain cell exposure to cheap draft beer or overcome the thoughtless endeavors of the terminally incompetent.
“Forget this, let’s use the self-check out lane.”
(Automated Check-out Machine) “Holla, uno momento por favor por identificacion.”
“What the hell?”
“Nice, you just tried to buy beer in Spanish.”
"Just go show the lady your ID."
"Why, how old do you have to be to buy beer in Mexico?"
“Approaching expressway...Merge left...Your other left...Exit in 3.7 miles...Make a U-Turn before you drive off cliff...You have arrived at destination.”
“Is it just me or is the GPS chick’s voice dead sexy?”
“No doubt, she’s like the perfect woman."
"Yeah, she never yells at you when you’re lost."
"Or has to pull over to go to the bathroom every 10 minutes."
"And she always knows the way to the nearest Taco Bell.”
12 O’clock Hour – By the grace of God and the Hertz’ Neverlost system, we arrive at Qualcomm stadium...a sterile, concrete jungle surrounded by scorched Earth.
“Welcome to Qualcomm Stadium, that’ll be $15.”
“$15? Seriously? Does that mean we can park anywhere?”
“Yeah, as long as it’s not roped off or reserved.”
“Okay, thanks...oh wait, do you know where we can buy sunglasses?”
“No, any other questions?”
(From the backseat) Is it true that San Diego in German means Whale’s Vagina?”
“Man, I hate tailgating at pro stadiums, it’s just not like tailgating at DKR.”
“Yeah, I agree. The beer isn’t as cold and the women aren’t as hot.”
“And there’s no creek for me to pee in.”
1 O’clock Hour – Still four hours to kick-off, but it has become abundantly clear that Longhorns fans are vastly outnumbered and are most assuredly not welcome in SoCal.
“Have you noticed that there’s like 30 ASU fans for every UT fan?”
“Yeah, I think the guys at the Alamo had better odds.”
(Politely) “Excuse me, but why are you (ASU Fan) giving us the shocker?"
(Indignantly) “It's not the shocker, it's a pitchfork."
(Jokingly) “Well, that’s not what your wife said."
(Not Jokingly) “Go *$&% yourself.”
(Sarcastically) “Thank you very much...don’t forget to wash your pitchfork.”
“Did you see that bumper sticker on that RV...This Devil's savior is the son of a Carpenter.”
“Oh yeah, ASU’s QB’s name is Rudy Carpenter. But he’s not even fit to be an Alter Boy.”
“I don’t get it, every ASU fan I’ve run into has acted like a jerk. We’ve never even played them before.”
“Well, what did you expect from the Texas Tech of the Pac 10?”
3 O’clock Hour – Somehow the few Texas fans who did make the trip managed to find each other and congregate on one end of the parking lot. It was readily apparent that most of us had never met before today, which was actually kind of cool because it gave us a chance to meet some new and very interesting people.
“Hi, name’s Travis, but I go by the Hollywood Texan (handing me his business card), just drove down from LA.”
“That’s cool, you’re a musician...you in a band?”
“Yeah, I play a little.”
“I wish I was in a band, they get all the chicks.”
(Laughing) “I do all right...I was with this one girl who used to go out with Matthew McConaughey and she said I was a better kisser than he is.”
“You should put that on your business card.”
“Yeah, maybe I will.”
“It’d be a lot cooler if you did.”
Rule #17: Never show up to a tailgate empty handed.
Rule #43: Telling the ladies you're an accomplished Web Master not as impressive as you might think.
Rule #76: No excuses. Drink like a Champion.
“Where’d you go?”
“Me and my cousin went to go play beer pong.”
“Did you win?”
“I don’t know but we got drunk as hell.”
The police often question him just because they find him interesting.
His Daisy Dukes alone have experienced more than a lesser man's entire wardrobe.
His breath smells like purgatory.
He is the most interesting man in the World...
He doesn't always drink beer, but when he does, he prefers to recycle.
Stay Thirsty My Friends...
4 O’clock Hour – You can always tell when it’s getting close to gametime...the parking lot is buzzing and so our most of the fans. Plus, the lines at the port-o-potties make you remember all too well just how many 12-ounce curls you’ve done that day.
“Game’s about to start, I don’t want to miss the flyover.”
“Okay, but I gotta piss first.”
“Can’t it wait, look at the lines.”
“No worries, I’ll just tell the Arizona State fans they better hurry cuz John McCain’s throwing out the first pitch.”
“Got your ticket?”
“Yeah, can’t believe we got these seats for below face.”
“Ooh, watch out, the guards at the gate have jackets that say, ELITE, on them.”
(Passing through the gate facetiously) “Only the best of the best get through Checkpoint Carlos.”
1st Quarter – Armed with enough liquid courage to storm the Bastille, we took our seats...but in all reality, like most UT fans on hand, we were just happy to be here and had no real expectations for what was to come. As far as we were concerned, we’d already won because we’d made it to the last UT game for the next eight months.
“Dude, I think our noseguard just scored a TD.”
“Dude, you are drunk.”
“No, he’s right, Lokey scored.”
“That calls for another beer.”
“Score!!!...wait, is Colt McCoy black?”
“That’s John Chiles, dumb ass.”
“Holy crap, we’re kickin’ ASU’s ass.”
(ASU Fan sitting behind us) “There’s plenty of time left, watch, we’ll come back. We always come back.”
“Yeah, but you live in a desert.”
NOTE: Some explanation is probably required here...at one of the GasLamp bars the night before, the “you live in a desert” response was uttered by some random Texas fan much to the bewilderment of the ASU fans around him. It makes no sense, but we thought it was hilarious and adopted it as our rallying cry.
2nd Quarter – Pretty much in the spirit world now thanks in large part to the frat pack in front of us who came fully loaded with whiskey and played pass the flask every time UT scored. We’re up 21-0 after just one quarter of play...yeah, not pretty for ASU or the folks sitting near us.
(College kid sitting in front of me) “Are you in a Frat?”
“Dude, I’m 34 years old.”
“You want some Jack?”
“Sure, why not.”
“Yeah, take a man’s pull.”
“Thanks, I really needed that.”
“You wanna be in our frat?”
(ASU Coed sitting with the Frat Pack) “This is no fair...we’re supposed to be beating Texas.”
(Me butting into their conversation) “Don’t worry...after the game, I’m sure he’ll take you back to the hotel and love you up real good.”
(Her) “Um, yuck, is he in your fraternity?”
(Frat guy) “Yeah, he just pledged.”
(Me screaming like Dennis Hopper in Hoosiers) “What the hell ref...it ‘posed to be my ball, our ball...this is crap-crap-crap.”
(ASU Fan screaming like a little bitch) “See, I told you...here comes the comeback.”
(Me screaming back like Chris Farley “down by the river”) “YEAH BUT YOU LIVE IN A DESERT!!!”
NOTE: Very few fans in the stadium, if any, knew that Mack’s stepson allegedly touching the ball in bounds was the reason the call got overturned. Our collective ignorance undoubtedly prevented a riot and saved lives, including Chris Jessie's, aka "Senior Bartman de San Diego."
Halftime – With a whole season’s worth of heart pounding plays having already witnessed, it still wasn’t enough as I apparently wasn’t satisfied with the San Dimas High School Dance Team and their lackluster halftime performance.
“Dude, why is he (54b) dancing down there (walkway in front of our section)?”
“He said he could dance way better than those girls on the field.”
“Well his leg kicks are impressive.”
3rd Quarter – Even though there are two quarters still to be contested, things are starting to slow down and many fans sitting near us didn’t return to their seats after halftime. Couldn’t have been something I said could it?
“I love it when Colt does his VY impression...well, except for the fumbling part.”
“Yeah, I can just imagine when Colt scrambles, all the other players go, ‘oh shit, loose ball drill.’”
“Is there anything better than sitting behind the band?”
“Yeah, sitting behind the cheerleaders.”
“Oh I don’t know, I think that Tuba player chick would look pretty good in a pair of chaps.”
“You better put on a pair too if you want ride that bronco.”
“Good Lord, look at Rudy Carpenter...it looks like he’s bleeding and his shirt is all ripped up.”
“Yeah, he better file a restraining order against Orakpo before he gets turned into fried whale shit.”
4th Quarter – Somehow, we’ve managed to drink ourselves sober. Qualcomm has cut off beer sales (three quarters too late if you ask the lady sitting behind us) and the ASU folks are literally no where to be seen.
“You can’t stop Jamaal, you can only hope to retain him.”
“Ha, you think Charles will turn pro?”
“No, he’s still too small and he needs another year to work on holding onto the ball.”
(Whoops, maybe not.)
(Showing me the screen on his digital camera) “Dude, check out this hot girl I just met out on the concourse.”
“Um, dude, she’s holding a kid.”
“Yeah, I know, I used the baby to start up a conversation and take her picture.”
“Wow, that’s classy.”
“Hey, where did Brad go?”
“He went over behind the ASU bench to heckle the coach?”
“Yeah, isn’t that him? Look at about the 35 yard line, about 10 rows up.”
“What's he yelling?
“HEY DENNIS, YOU LIVE IN A DESERT!’”
Stay classy, Longhorns and...