TCU Football - Dear Opponent: The Lame Game
Dear Masochists,
I address you thus, naturally, upon your reading this letter. For in the last three years, I have written precisely nothing, zero, that could be remotely construed as positive regarding your school, save perhaps your having the wisdom in 93 not to join the Branch Davidians in setting yourselves on fire--scratch that as a missed opportunity.
No, it goes without saying any Bore from Waco, any tapped-out Baptist, any wannabe Paddingtons, Winnies and Yogis who reads a word of my prose is a deliberate masochist on par with that Bill Murray character who goes to the dentist and begs for a root canal.
And a root canal is far preferable to visiting McLane Stadium for any reason other than taking a long-withheld whiz on its gridiron. The beef between our teams is not so much a ribeye as a tomahawk, blue, best served cold. And man, tomorrow it will be.
For TCU, this season hasn't been so much a bad one as one worse: lame. It's been a thoroughly lame season. I'm not even going to mention three losses we endured, but suffice it to say, I can't handle a fourth, not at your hands. And speaking of hands, you've been dealt some bad ones. You got spanked by Utah, spanked by Colorado, double spanked (with paddle!) by Iowa State, and spanked again by the Mormons. Somehow, you fooled Tech into thinking it wise to lose and ran away with the win against Oklahoma State--I'm betting you stole it.
And Saturday we're going to have two erstwhile proud and strong teams, knotted in their visceral inveterate contempt, playing for glory in McLane Stadium and, let's face it, these aren't the teams we cheered two years ago. We're two mid-level Division 1 teams resuming a rivalry kindled by better years years past.
So my dear masochist, this is my message to you: win, lose, or draw, I'm looking forward to next season, when our boys get their junk together and properly locate their head from their posterior, and play you with the heat of a team that knows why they're on the field, who inspire every onlooker from here to Boston with the admiration always accorded a great UnderFrog, and distinctly not this one who can hardly stifle a stale and insipid yawn when beating Tech by one point in the last two minutes of the game on the power of a fumble.
So here's to the Baylor/TCU rivalry of 2024.
Lame.
Best of luck,
SI
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