A Christmas Miracle

So we won.

And it was awesome.

--------------

Wait, let's back up and go through this whole thing sequentially.

We went to a matinee of The Constant Gardener. Theoretically this left us a full hour to go home and putz around before heading over to campus to meet up with everyone and get there in time for the pregame show and get good seats in the student section. The hour comes and goes. Frank asks if we really have to leave right then. I get ready to beanie slap him for his impertinence, when I realize that we don't have to leave at that moment. We have seen pregame before, we will see it again. We decide instead to mosey on over when the urge strikes us.

(There is even discussion about leaving after half-time. Or perhaps just showing up for half-time and skipping the first half entirely. We are apparently not keen on the prospects for this game. They beat Oklahoma for God's sake.)

We leave the house with 20 minutes until kickoff. I fully expect to be jammed in traffic for the entirety of the first quarter. Instead, it is completely smooth sailing, and my usual spot for parking is open. While in transit to the stadium, I make my weekly prediction on the score: 28-17, SMU winning, I say. Frank scoffs, but refuses to commit to a number. We make it to the stadium and into the bowl before pregame is even finished. However, the student section is already filled and they are directing students up to the upper deck. I'm willing to just go with the flow, but Frank insists on good seats, by God. We snake our way over to the alumni band section and join the ranks of the unaffiliated band alumni without instruments. We all are wearing the exact same shirt. It is precious.

First quarter goes by. My constant question of "Are we winning yet?" is met with continual negatives. But we are only down by 3. A 44 to 0 loss is not out of the question, but is at least unlikely.

Second quarter comes and it's pure insanity. While the guys in the band are gone, SMU marches down the field and scores. I don't think I've ever seen SMU have a drive that lasted the entire course of the field, but there it was. My voice gets a nice long workout. As the quarter nears the end, I see the first ever successful play-action pass for a touchdown in my SMU career and it was so beautiful that I almost wept. Voice is relatively gone, but that does not keep me from yelling during halftime. Once again, sitting on the student side makes me miss the best song from the band. Oh well.

Third Quarter starts out with TCU running back the opening kickoff. There is a sense of inevitability about the whole thing, but we bear it well. We're used to this sort of thing. JL comes by the unaffiliated alumni section to remind us "No matter what, we've already scored more points on them than Oklahoma." Spirits slightly brightened. Suddenly, it's the end of the third quarter and we're still winning by 4. At this point I still firmly believe that there is no hope. I am well conditioned in "the glass is three-quarters empty and about to be crushed under the heel of a 100 yard kick off return" school of philosophy.

Five minutes or so into the fourth quarter, SMU scores again, by freaking running it up the middle. That doesn't happen. Ever. I think it's right around here that my voice became useless. While I continued to yell, there would be periodic stops to cough up a lung, or to wait for my vocal cords to stop throbbing. From here on in, it's just like nothing can stop the eventuality. Devon tries to jinx us by invoking an ancient evil curse. I spit upon the ground and swear a blood oath that I will end her life if she has screwed this up for us. TCU misses, like, 17 consecutive field goals. We miss, like 6, but each time I thank God because I don't want them to get a chance to run back a kickoff for a touchdown. The crowd starts celebrating at 7:00 left. I once again beg the world to stop jinxing us. I run out of saliva to spit for the curses. At 4:00 I look down into the band crowd and Sean gives me a look that sums up every feeling I had at the moment, which in internet speak is something like OMFGWTFBBQ, only moreso. I turn to Devon and say "We've lost surer things than this. I still don't believe it's possible."

We're down to almost exactly 1:00 left. At this point, SMU recovers another interception at our own 15 or so, and TCU is out of time-outs. This officially means victory and I turn to Frank and say "WE WON" and proceed to freak out.

Then they pop up a notice that the play is under review. At this point I realize that God is just toying with me, had just been waiting for the point that I gave in and thought we were actually gonna pull it off. They're going to come back, give the ball back to TCU, they will score on the next play, onside kick and score again all in the last 15 seconds, just in time to so thoroughly crush my spirit that I will be an unrecognizable blob with tiny, tiny little pony ears.

The review goes in SMU's favor. The world implodes as hell ices over and my voice reaches gravel status. Final score 21-10. The general feeling is pure euphoria tinged with complete disbelief. I call everyone who is not there, in order to yell nonsense into my cell phone. We wander our way across campus to Devon's apartment randomly chanting derogatory slogans about TCU as if we are drunk (we are not). Where the guys are too, indeed.

My old man status is confirmed as we skip any sort of party and instead hang out at Devon's with a movie and a box of Pocky. But yeah, anyways.

So we won. And it was awesome.