An old college friend sent me the following e-mail after the latest weekly embarrassment to our football program:
i went to wurstfest, tivo'd k-state game and was going to watch it when i got back.
avoided texts and my blackberry so as to escape the news, whether good or bad.
Drunk, sat down with lady friend at my house (who is also big longhorn fan and i was adamant she not check her phone or texts at wurstfest so she wouldn't know what happened either).
Started watching, got excited because as shitty as it is, still Texas football.
53 seconds later, I hit "Stop, Delete" and she, also being a longhorn fan was like "I am happy you did that." Checked my phone, lots of angry texts. Checked score to make sure I hadn't made a mistake. Had not.
Grabbed her hand and took her to bedroom. I did not think of Greg Davis.
Is this what our season has come to?
In past years, the night of a Texas loss was a Holy Day of Abstinence. Defeat left me inconsolable and completely uninterested in anything that would interfere with obsessive hindsight analysis - What went wrong? Why didn't Davis gameplan for X, Y, and Z? Why blitz in that situation? Would it be possible for Curtis Brown to not rub baby oil on his hands before fielding punts? Etc., etc.
In such desperate times, sex is nothing but a trivial distraction from the more important business of scrutinizing the program's status after a loss.
Are we red-blooded Longhorn men now willing to switch from game-to-sex after less than a minute has expired off of the game clock? More fundamentally, have we become so calloused to humiliating losses that even the most devoted among us are now capable of attaining an erection in the immediate wake of a Texas defeat? Well, at least one man has.
And that man... that man was [CENSORED], my college dorm mate. Hell of a guy.
Also, I'm contractually obligated to mention that the author of the e-mail above dated identical twins (hot ones, too) during our sophomore year.