Ladies and gentlemen, members of Longhorn Nation,
It is my duty and privilege to type before you today, as the proud spirit of the Forty Acres summons us once more to the field of valor. Across the plains of Texas, there lies a rival—an ancient foe—who dares challenge the burnt orange banner. Yes, I speak aft.
Let us not mince words, for we are not gathered here to exchange pleasantries or to entertain illusions of equality. We are here to proclaim, with every ounce of resolve and every fiber of our being, that The University of Texas shall march forth to victory, leaving no doubt in the hearts of men, women, and weirdo aggy alike.
What do they have? A dog? A sheepish yell? A tradition of misplaced enthusiasm for all things mediocrity? They may revel in their midnight yells and choreographed rituals, but we have something far greater—brains, brawn, and an unshakable belief in our destiny. For where they waver, we rise. Where they falter, we soar. Where they cling to delusions, we forge an unrelenting future.
We shall not be intimidated by their maroon-clad posturing. We shall not yield to their agricultural arithmetic or their boasts of bygone days. Instead, we shall meet them on the gridiron with the ferocity of Bevo himself. We shall drive them back, yard by yard, goal by goal, until their spirit is shattered and their resolve is broken.
We shall fight in the trenches, we shall fight through the air, we shall fight with precision and purpose, and we shall emerge victorious. We shall leave Kyle Field knowing that the might of the Longhorns is unparalleled, our spirit unyielding, our triumph inevitable.
Let them come with their fake army and their chants, their pride and their pretenses. For every aggy who steps forward, a Longhorn shall rise to meet them. We shall drown out their whoops with the resounding roar of “Texas Fight!” and silence their voices with the thunder of our victory.
So let aggy hear this, loud and clear: we are Texas. We are the champions of this great state, the standard-bearers of excellence, the embodiment of triumph. And when the final whistle blows, it shall not be they who celebrate beneath the Texas sky. It shall be us—the Longhorns—standing tall, our heads held high, and our horns raised in glorious victory.
Now, onward to the battle, my friends, and let history record that on this coming day, Texas stood mighty, Texas stood proud, and Texas went in dry on aggregate.