Bowl Finale: Don’t Forget to put Roses on My Grave

Oh, the infamy. Oh the ignominy. Oh the . . . ignorance to not pick the Crimson Tide.

Just yesterday, when Joey the Vig called to taunt and tantalize me (and try to reach his slippery palms into my pocket for mo’ money, mo’ money, mo’ money), I fantasized about the perfect scenario.

“24-21. That’s all I want, Joey. Either way would be fine. But, I’d like to see Texas win. For my pal Texas Red. And because Nick Saban is a world class shmuck.”

Joey, flush with knowledge that he would take home a major portion of the prize money regardless of the outcome was nurturing to a fault. “Have faith, Mr. Internet Blogger, have faith. The law of averages says you got to collect some money every once in awhile.”

So, there it was right in front of me: The Big Payoff. Despite Colt McCoy’s devastating injury, despite some truly idiotic play calling by the Longhorn coaches — calling timeout for a last play before the half, ending up as 7 the other way was truly Kragthorpian — despite the reality that Alabama is the better team, the Hook ‘Em Horns were perfectly poised.

For Themselves.

For the Kid.

A little over three minutes to play. 21-24. (Keeping me comfortably 4 points under the over/under tiebreaker). Burnt Orange Ball, but with the whole field to go. Of all the possibilities, the vast majority were in my favor. (Let me add that the Film Babe is sitting at her computer, that Florida condo rental just a mouse click away. “No honey, not yet, I’ll tell you when.”)

Possiiblity #1: Texas drives down and scores a TD. Kid finishes 3d in the pool.

Possibility #2: Texas drives to midfield and stalls with the clock running down. Alabama takes a couple of knees for the W. Kid finishes 2d in the pool.

Possibility #3: Texas gets a tying field goal for ooooooooooooooovertime. Kid still has a chance to finish third.

But nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! I’m forced to advise my sweetie, who has already started packing her bathing suit and suntan lotion, that “when” never comes.

The girisly details. Gritty Garrett Gilbert gets plundered from his blind side, coughing up the ball just steps away from his own endzone.

Bama scores. Bama wins. Bama covers. And I end up SOL.

Cue the music, maestro:

– Seedy K


  1. gnash001
    Posted January 8, 2010 at 11:14 am | Permalink

    Where was the left side of the Texas offensive line in the last quarter???? When Gilbert threw that last TD pass, he was flattened by from the same side just as he released the ball!

  2. cbcard
    Posted January 8, 2010 at 11:32 am | Permalink

    How do I love the Stones? Let me count the ways. And one is Keith just loves playing. Check the smile on his face 30 seconds in when he looks over at the other guys. Every time I’ve seen them he does the same thing all night long. How great must it be to be so famous, so rich doing what you absolutely love? And of course, there’s the drugs.

  3. fred
    Posted January 8, 2010 at 12:59 pm | Permalink

    Saban is a shmuck? Gee, he always spoke well of you. And Mack Brown is the aw shucks good ol boy who’s somebody’s granddaddy. Well, in cases like this, (see: George Steinbrenner, Bill Bellicheck, Phil Jackson, or Tiger Woods) always bet on the shmuck. Just ask Joey.

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