took a charter out therr
Cotton Speyer was in our group.
Stayed all the way out in Dana Point for some reason.
The charter company would never give us our tickets, the whole time... so the running conversation was obviously "where are our seats"
Bus takes us all the fucking way from Dana Point to the Rose Bowl... still no tickets.
"Tailgating".. whatever... nobody gives a shit... where are our fucking tickets?
ESPN starts and ends their show in the parking lot with Jackie fucking Sherrill there some how... still no tickets.. the bands are assembling to march in, the biggest thing to happen to my school, athletically, in my life and I am drinking Tito's next to a bus in a parking lot in California.
"Tickets are on the way... just too much traffic trying to get in here"
Somebody is going to be assassinated at this point.
Last minute.. dude shows up with the tickets... my then wife and I got "Section 2"..bout half way up and in the center of the SC end.
She and I were the only burnt orange specks in a sea of those entitled pricks.
I took shit.. even from the sixty year old something SC professor that kept yelling "MACK.. YOUR TEAM IS ILL PREPARED" starting with Ross's fumbled punt return and continuing through most of the rest of the game.
I lost my give a shit after I met Henry Winkler in line for another vodka Redbull and started throwing my tiny wife up and down everytime something positive happened for Texas.
The only good thing about section 2 was that it is directly on the goal line where history happened, and I was able to convey my thoughts and realease YEARS of pent up shit, up to and including the ticketing fiasco.. to every one there.
A couple of SC ladies hugged me, impressed with my vigor.
Fuck that bus... I met Selvin Young on the field after a very emotional "Eyes Of Texas" and and stayed out in Pasadena until 8am the next day.
There