Obligatory reminder: The SMO is usually an emotional overreaction based on the game events the day before. It does not deal in logic or reason.
In anticipation of a brutal Saturday for the Texas Longhorns against the Oklahoma Sooners in the Cotton Bowl, I settled down at the Posse East with a pitcher of beer and a notepad on which to write down things to remind me to be optimistic. This diary was a way for me to maintain my sanity in what was sure to be a trying Saturday afternoon.
Three minutes into the second quarter, I wrote the following beautiful sentence:
Oklahoma has -1 yards of total offense and still sucks.
This was going to be a good day.
Inexplicably, Texas was playing actual football. The weather was great, my allergies were somewhat in check, everyone around me was drunk, and Marcus Johnson was running roughshod over the Oklahoma defense:
Marcus Johnson teabags Oklahoma -- 7:52 in the first
Breaking tackles like no one has this season, Marcus Johnson put Texas on the board. Where has this kid been the whole season.. or the last three? More of this please, and less of everything else. A few short moments later, and Texas kicks off, plows the return man, and recovers the fumble. Special teams. Doing things.
The highlight of the rest of the quarter was Tyrone Swoopes substituting into the game, belldozing the OU defense for 20 yards, and then forgetting that yes, he still has to play more football. A few moments later he rushed into the endzone and fumbled, but Texas recovered.
Refs don't suck! 14-0 TEX
Texas spent much of this quarter (according to my beer-addled memory and hastily written notes) rushing the ball up the middle of the Oklahoma defense. Nothing feels better than just running all over the large angry men of Oklahoma. My thoughts from this quarter include:
Nothing bad has happened... Oklahoma can't stop us up the middle... WE LOOK LIKE A FOOTBALL TEAM
Our rushing game was downhill. Mack Brown would be proud.
We opened our third quarter with multiple rushes of 9, 12, and 10 yards and then ended that drive with A MADE FIELD GOAL. Special teams continued not to suck. At this point I started to feel good, and not just the uncomfortable good that precedes dread that Texas football has inculcated in my psyche. We looked like the better team, and we were not messing around.
Oklahoma scored an inconsequential field goal, but my sustained optimism was evidenced by the following scribbled notes:
My wife is hotter than all of the Oklahoma cheerleaders.
Holding against Texas (1:11 3rd quarter)... but we sacked his ass anyways.
Like every stereotypical villain in every action movie, Oklahoma scored a late touchdown when Texas rushed four and let the quarterback take his pick of our young, inexperienced secondary. This, thankfully, was the low point of the day.
With Texas up 17-10, Jerrod Heard proved that he is in fact the best quarterback to play football ever and iced the game for the Horns by rushing repeatedly for first downs when Oklahoma was out of timeouts and still (STILL) unable to contain our freshman quarterback. Heard seemed like he had a five-yard gain whenever he wanted it, and when it mattered most Oklahoma couldn't stop him. If I'm remembering this wrong don't tell me, because I'm staring at:
Jerrod Heard wins the m********* game
Yup, and enjoying it too much to care.
We're going to be talking about this game for a while. It's not quite 45-35, but it joins the pantheon of Red River Shootout games that define the rivalry. We're now 6-2 since 1989 when Oklahoma is ranked and we are not. What is it about Oklahoma that gets our players up? Can we bottle it? Can we force all of our opponents to wear the hideous crimson and cream? I don't know, but today is a great Sunday for me to vomit my optimism to y'all. We're going to be a great football team, and might already be.