TCU Football: Max Or Morris--Why Not Both? Or, Who The Hell Is Max Morris?

A sports ignoramus enters the debate as to who shall lead the Horned Frogs to victory over Oklahoma this Saturday

Tony Beblowski/KillerFrgos

DISCLAIMER: THIS ARTICLE HAS BEEN WRITTEN FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY; ANY ATHLETIC WISDOM OR INSIGHT OR KNOWLEDGEABILITY THEREIN, NOT DIRECTLY QUOTED BY MY COLLEAGUES, IS NOT ONLY PURELY ACCIDENTAL BUT UNFORTUNATE.

"What are you doing?" the Barry Lewis asked.  

"Reading my fan mail."  

"What fan mail?  Thanet has something to say?" 

"No." 

"Daniel?" 

"No."

"Who then?" 

"The KillerFrogs forum board." 

Here I heard Lewis audibly sigh.  

"I have received some responses to the Dear SMU letter," I continued.  "And am so heartened by the reception." 

"And what do the mother . . . mother's children have to say now?" 

"Well, 82 Frog Fever says 'Whoa, that's awful.  Reconsider further editions.'  And BleedNPurple says 'Meh - boring drivel.'  To BleedNPurple's credit, he does realize it's drivel, not dribble."  

"Look you shouldn't let it bother you--" 

"Are you insane?!  This is great!  A novelist couldn't hope for anything better than reviews like these.  It's great practice for handling lousy readers--and more than that, lousy readers with loud opinions.  Move over, James Wood!  The KillerFrogs Fan Forum literary critics have hit the scene like a board of hydrogen bombs!"  

"I have an assignment for you."  

"What now!" 

"I need you to tell me who you think will be TCU's quarterback this Saturday.  The BFG and Nathan Cross are having a debate about it." 

"Not getting cross I hope." 

"Avoid the puns." 

"Well, it seems a little silly to have a debate about quarterbacks when there's only one."  

"And who is that?"  

"Max, of course." 

"So you say Max Duggan."  

"Did I say that?" 

"You didn't?" 

"I said Morris." 

"So you say Chandler Morris."  

"I didn't say that either." 

"I'm confused." 

"Jesus, Barry, it's not that hard.  I said Max."  

"Duggan?"

"Morris." 

"Are you screwing with me?" 

"I wouldn't think ever to do such a thing.  Friends don't do that."

"So you're going with Chandler Morris." 

"No.  Max." 

Here I heard, I am certain of it, an audible groan, and though I asked Lewis for his attention for the next five minutes, he never replied, which I thought was a little rude, so I hung up. 

Five minutes later, I got the call from Fearless Leader.  

"What did you do to Barry Lewis?" 

"I didn't do anything to him. He asked me a stupid question about who our quarterback is." 

"And what in the Lord's name did you tell him?" 

"I told him the truth.  Max Morris." 

"Who in the hell is Max Morris?" 

"I just told you!" 

"Well, Barry just had a heart attack.  He's okay, but he's at Baylor Medical.  And he has very little positive to say about you." 

"Well, that makes two of us!" 

"There is no Max Morris on the team.  There are two quarterbacks.  Max Duggan and Chandler Morris.  Max Duggan has started the last two games for us." 

"Three." 

"What?" 

"We've had four games.  One started the Colorado game. One started Tartleton and BYE . . ." 

Here I heard what sounded like a palm slapping a forehead. 

" . . . and SMU." 

"Leaving that aside, could you please tell me if you think Max Duggan or Chandler Morris should start on Saturday.  And the next words I hear out of your mouth better not be Max - something - Morris." 

I paused to think. 

"Damonic Williams." 

"I'm sorry, what?" 

"Fearless Leader, have you seen that guy?" 

"I--" 

"Well, let me tell you something real clear.  I have.  He came into the taco shop.  And I'm here to tell you that guy is a colossus in the flesh.  Next to him, any defensive line is going to look like a lot of lilliputians hanging on Gulliver's ankle."  

"What's a lilliputian?" 

"Gulliver's Travels.  Really little people.  About the height of his shoe."  

"I don't know if Damonic Williams can even throw a ball." 

"Doesn't matter if he doesn't.  I'm telling you, the guy snaps the ball, Damonic steamrolls right over anyone you put in front of him."  

"So you want me to tell poor Barry, Barry who has done so much for you, on his hospital bed, that between Max Duggan and Chandler Morris you, in your infinite wisdom, think Damonic Williams, who plays on defense, is going to be the quarterback." 

"Why not?" 

There was a sigh. 

"I'll tell him." 

"Please do."  

"He won't be happy."  

"When it comes to me, he hardly ever is."  

"I'll tell him." 

"Please do." 

Click.

*The author is saddened to report that upon hearing this prognostication, the Barry Lewis fell into the grip of a second cardiac arrest, raised his right hand to his chest at once, and lay on his hospital bed dead and sad as the empty pint glass beside me.  He is survived by a loving, lovely wife and a very well-read niece whose opinion on literary matters and merits this author values most highly.  RIP.  

Having said that, and more importantly, he wishes Damonic Williams the best of luck as TCU's starting quarterback Saturday against Oklahoma.  

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