Shortly after midnight on Friday night my Twitter feed caused me considerable concern.
There was Trey Millard “tweeting” about his beloved St. Louis Cardinals winning their way into the NLCS. This was less than six hours from daybreak in Dallas – where the Sooners were about to play against the evil ‘horns of Texas.
Panic ensued.
What was Millard doing? He should be sleeping, I thought. This does not bode well. Should I call the downtown Omni where the team was staying and alert the coaching staff to rush up to Millard’s room to put a stop to this?
It’s one thing for a middle-aged fan like me to be up late watching TV, fall asleep for a few hours and stumble around in the morning to drag myself to the Cotton Bowl in time for the 11 a.m. kickoff. Hey, I don’t have to outrun anybody or block anyone. Well, OK, maybe block some people in that crush of orange-clad humanity you have to push through to get from the car show building to Gate 4 of the Cotton Bowl.
But, for a key player like Millard to be tweeting? Oh, boy. Wait til Stoops finds out about this.
What I didn’t know then was that this Sooners team was confident and loose going into the Red River Rivalry. Catching some late night baseball and showing support Twitter? No biggie. Red River Rivalry? No sweat. We got this one, guys.
Millard’s performance a few hours later proves once again that other people know a whole lot more about football than I do. Namely, the players.
I don’t know if Millard got any sleep Friday night at all. At this point I certainly don’t care and have convinced my superstitious self that if Trey was up eating Twinkies with his Twitter at 2 a.m. the night before the game, he should follow that same ritual for every game.
The young man was able to leap tall buildings in a single bound on Saturday. And it wasn’t just him. Every Sooner defender was like Thor pounding his hammer into Longhorn skulls. They tackled and mutilated. Offensive linemen blocked and pancaked. Running backs glided and soared. It was the perfect game.
All is right with the world – Twitter and all.
Now, before we sign off another RRR, we have to make some comment about the state of affairs in Austin.
In Twitter terminology: WTF?
This was Oklahoma’s fourth beat down of Texas in the Stoops era.
Stoops often says we don’t play the Little Sisters of the Poor. Uh….well, Bob.
I appreciate Stoops putting in third team defenders in the 4th quarter to let Texas score a couple of meaningless touchdowns to help the Longhorns feel a little better about themselves. If he hadn’t done that, I’m not sure Texas would come back next year to play this game – which would be disappointing seeing as how I’m already booking my hotel reservation for next year.
In his post-game press conference Texas Coach Mack Brown looked like he’d walked through a car wash.
I don’t know if its bad coaching or bad playing or a bad combination, but these Longhorns look …well, bad.
Right before halftime, when the score was OU 36 Texas 2, Mack, applying some weird rule that no fans ever heard of, elected to forfeit a time out instead of taking a 10-second runoff of the clock for an intentional grounding penalty.
Mack should have opted for a two-quarter run off.
We could then have all gone to Fletcher’s Corny Dog stand early, instead of just those waves of downtrodden Texas fans who jumped ship at halftime.
Then again, for Sooners, the second half was like an election night watch party where you know your candidate has won, and all you’re waiting for is the last few votes from Gotebo that aren’t going to change the outcome. It’s a lot of good cheer, mouthing how bad your opponent was, and beach balls – including the one from the upper seats that whacked me on the top of the head sometime in the third quarter.
No problem. It was the feeling of victory.
Finally, just to add spice to our Okie cockiness as we revel in the demise of our Texas rivals for another 364 days, I suggest one change in the rules for next year.
If your team is losing by 34 or more points at halftime and you’re leaving the stadium in disgust, you have to leave the entire Fair Park – preferably under police escort – so that we winners don’t have to see your forlorn and sorrowful faces outside the stadium when we depart two quarters later.
Frankly, we Sooners are starting to feel sorry for you and that interrupts our gloating nature.
It’s a real downer. Just leave.
But come back next year. And please bring Mack.
Follow