Bama Llama

I thought Bryce Young nailed his Fansville segment last year: "They're my family now, CJ." and gives the kid the dead-eyed look.

Marcel Dareus and Colt’s shoulder can funally be consigned to the dust heap of history. Is this a similar watershed? Time will tell. Sark sez, “Veni, vidi, vici, motherfuckers!” My crimson ball cap’s off to you denizens of Surly. Peace out while I kick my wounds. Wallow in all the success, Horns. You have earned it and richly deserve it.

Onto the plain of tailgetery strode the six hundred, or The Four as it were. May the ghosts of Bryant, Denny, Wade, Thomas, Bible, Royal and all them guys smile down upon you on this glorious day. Beauty is truth and truth beauty. Everything else is bullshit. Hook Em and Roll Tide. This is now officially real. Bravo to you for the journey. May you all survive and remember the best parts of it.

You made Hokkaido a reality. You are not unlike the host team, for your Surly Gonzo pluck and grit has writ your names in burnt orange flame. I hope to hell you didn’t actually eat too much of that shit. You guys must unfurl an obscene banner at the beginning of GameDay in (checks time) eight hours and five minutes). On to Walmart for poster board, paint, and long pink dick shaped balloons!

If the defecation has hit the ventilation and you interact with Tuscaloosa or UA po-leece, here’s your man. Trust me. And say nothing until he arrives.

I salute you guys completely. You’re living the dream. All that’s missing- Keith Richards and an overturned ______ parish deputy’s SUV. Please fo me a favor about 40 miles after you cross into Alabama, you will pass the exit for Boligee, 1919 birthplace and final resting place of my deare sainted mither. Lean on that Horn RV hofn one time for a sweet, kind lady. keep the cruise control engaged. Alabama State Troopers not known for perspicacity . . . or leniency. Godspeed to the Druid City!

Just record it and avoid your phone or talking to anyone with even a .01% chance of watching the game or knowing the score. You may just survive this lol Fuck, it’s worth a try. Nothing more awful, excruciating and exhilarating than watching a gut wrencher in the blind 24 hours after the fact. I’ll report back if successful. May the outcome of this game not be decided by any official.

Wow, which of the 4 will be toting your balls in their purse? Out of all the games this season, this one should be non-negotiable. Yeah, yeah. You have to trust me on this one. Some things even trump football. I assure you, my chi will be there in spirit. I’m still dog cussing the back judge in the ‘65 Orange Bowl for waving off the linesman’s TD call on Joe Namath’s 4th down run. BTW, kudos to Texas for sending the traveling pep band. Bama punked out last year rather than sit the pep band up high at DKR. That was a pussy move. Horns fans and players will get to hear The Eyes and Texas Fight! in Tuscaloosa. I’ll be watching somehow.

I flat out weep involuntarily every time I see the sweet sad hooker sing out “Aux arms, citoyens!” at the crescendo of the La Marseillaise scene. I know what’s coming and the tears just flow. That great anthem was never performed better than Rick’s house band did it in this film. And the way Laszlo doesn’t hesitate; when he hears the Germans singing, he hurries down the stairs from Rick’s office, goes right up to the band leader, says in that great accent “Play La Marseillaise! Pleh eet!” Band leader looks up at Rick and Rick gives him “the nod.” My favorite moment in film.

This weekend I have to drive my wife, daughter, and two of my wife’s best girl homies to a family wedding, mandatory attendance by me or life as I know it ends. No fucking way will I be able to preserve isolation. I’ll be like the insufferable asshole on the insurance commercial wreaking havoc at the wedding and reception trying to watch the big game. God dammit all. I hereby curse alla yinz with innumerable video reviews.

Downtown = one block either side of University Blvd west from Queen City Ave to Greensboro Ave. East of Queen City to the stadium = The Strip

Alabama 21 Texas 20 Alabama 273 yards Bama’s offense can’t get ahead of the sticks all night, stinks up Bryant Denny. Both defenses play balls out. Milroe bails and scrambles 15 times, to little effect. Saban refuses to sub any backup QB for Milroe. Ewers flings 14 long passes, some connect. Sark pulls a hamstring jumping up from a squat, refuses to play subs. Auburn (spit on ground) and Reichert fill the air with field goal attempts, some connect. With 1:00 left, up 20-16, Horns are inside their own 5, facing 4th and 13, call time. Horns punter runs around in the end zone using many of Bama’s precious remaining seconds, giving the safety (Sarks secret plan). Free kick ends up with Bama on its own 30, 50 seconds left in the game. Texas 20, Bama 18. Many fans, remembering grade school arithmetic, become excited. Three downs net negative 10. On 4th and 20 with 22 seconds left, Milroe scrambles to the Horns 40 but forgets to call time. Saban, steam shooting out of mouth, ears, eyes and nostrils, remembers, and calls time with 2 seconds left. Reichert nails one from 57. Big Al fondles the anal cleft of the best looking chaps girl, says later, “You could fit a Bartlett pear up in there! I’m transferring to Austin!” With the win, Bama trails Texas all time, 7-3-1. Maybe I’ll live long enough to see the series even. P.S. Texas meets Bama again in this year’s playoff. In all of our dreams.

On too many plays I saw Milroe not paying attention to what should be the play clock in his head. This does not bode well for my guys. Bama O line is better than ‘22 but so is Texas D. Bama RBs seem merely adequate but not able to house it. #84 TE could make a difference. If Malachi Moore is out, Ewers & Horns receivers will eat yards. Hopkng for great atmosphere, good signs at GameDay, no putrid calls, no injuries. I’ll be shocked if it doesn’t go down to the wire. If any of you get downtown, check out Jalapeño’s Tequila Cafe y Bar. Wide selection of Tequilas, good fud, run by friends of mine. Welcome to the SEC - early version.

With BobO’B running things last year, we had trouble getting behind the sticks. It seemed like we were always in 3rd and long. Bryce Young saved our asses but not enough times. The D didn’t put enough pressure on opposing QBs. We could easily have dropped five games instead of only two. Will those two elements get better? Fuck if I know but the current QB room is a far cry from Bryce Young. I can only put trust in the angry little man stalking the sidelines. If we get behind the sticks repeatedly because of poor first down calls/execution, it’ll be semen collection time at old Longhorn bull barn, gol dammit all.

Joe Willie Namath and his wingman Hoot Owl Hicks were habitues of the Bright Star . . . Fifty yesrs sgo when Joe played for the Jets and worked out in Tuscaloosa in the off season.

Bewaaarrre the mooors. Mmmmmm. Jenny Agutter

Everyone he picked is doomed.

This (video below) still resonates. This and “cynicism is not the answer either.” Light candles and quit wasting time cursing the darkness. Treat others the way you want to be treated and keep moving foward.

Dead ringer for Zoolander

And don’t any a yinz leave before the game clock is at 00:00 of the fourth quarter, by yiminy!

Yeah and as a Bama fan I will remember until the day I die the right side linesman, with a clear view, raising his hands signaling the apparent game winning TD by Joe Namath in the 1965 Orange Bowl. My 13-yesr old ass cheered and danced all around the den. Then that prolapsed anus of a back judge, having no angle whatsoever on the play other than a monkey pile of linemen, comes barging in from ghe back line of the end zone waving it off. Texas wins 21-17. I accept it, as well as the Horns player running out of bounds in a Cotton Bowl, another Texas victory which I don’t like, but accept. As Bryant told Namath, “Boy, you need yo get your whole ASS acrosd the line and remove any doubt!” Take the 2009 and 2022 losses, bitches. I took the ones where you were up at 00:00 in the 4Q. Beat our asses if you can. You very well may. Stud QB, great WRs, tough D, wizard coach who knows the mind of Nick Saban. We’re weak at QB and iffy on O line. May there be no blown calls or injuries and may the team that plays hardest win the fuckin game. Period.

My bad - it’s hell getting old. That was game one of 1983, not 1980. Going in Auburn was ranked #3 and Texas #5. Auburn was never in it. ScoQuarters 1 2 3 4 Score ------ -- -- -- -- ----- Texas........ 10 10 0 0 - 20 Record: (1-0) Auburn....... 0 0 0 7 - 7 Record: (0-1) Capn Mike had the last word after 1981. Fucking Auburn beat us in 1982 and 1983.

Then you were one of the seemingly endless line of LHB members who so impressively marched into Jordan Hare Stadium. To you and all the others in white stetsons, string ties and burnt orange uniforms with white zigzags piped up the outside legs, I tip my crimson ball cap. Mike, a police captain and otherwise nice guy I knew in Tuscaloosa, nwas a glassy-eyed Auburn fan. He never missed a chance to remind me of the Punt, Bama, Punt! debacle in 1972. As of September, 1980 Bama had won every Auburn game since then. Mike was all keyed up for 1980 and had tickets to the Texas game on the Plains. Monday after the game he cane dragging in, whining, “Goddamn! The football team was bad enough but Texas had us beat before the kickoff! They started marching in, clanging those fucking cowbells, and they must have marched in for 30 minutes. Then they played “The Eyes of Texas” and everyone around me was looking around like “Sheee-yit! THAT was a mrach-in!” Texas controlled both LOS, the LHB won the music and showbiz game, and Texas won the day all around. As an old band geek and lifelong Bama fan, I enjoyed the shit out of it. Those fuckers can’t suffer enough.

Praise be to you, RPM, sir, for awakening this memory. Ahh, yes! The incredible voice of Edward Everett Horton was part of the soundtrack of my misspent youth. His voice, the wonderful music of vintage WB cartoons, and reading cover to cover my cousin’s old paperback anthologies of MAD magazine. 1959 seemed to last forever, the way summertime would stretch out forever when you bolted from class, the echo of the last bell ringing in your ears.

And . . . Annnd . . . Linked reference - he was the friendly, world wise bartender to Dudley Moore in “10” as the oh so luscious Bo Derek sliw danced with her new husband, the Flash Gordon guy Sam whatsisname only with dark hair in 10. I always liked that bar. And Bo. Did I mention Bo?