I didn’t want to write this letter.  I intended to kick back, knock back some brews, and scream until I was hoarse tomorrow as I let my favorite team do the talking.  On the field.  With their actions.  I was going to take the Osborne-paved, high road on this game and simply let Lavonte David put his helmet under your would-be running backs’ chins and knock them back to their dust-bowl looking hometowns.

I really was.

Then it happened.  Mike Blackwell pressed print.

Blackwell, the editor of insidetexas.com and who has apparently been given a license to spew fandom on a site that ESPN inexplicably backs, hit “ctrl P”, or “apple P” or whatever the hell he needed to do to put drivel to page and he tossed my aforementioned ideology out the window like a penalty on a holding call.

I guess, however, that pro-Texas folk don’t know how to call holding penalties.  Just ask the referees at last year’s Big 12 Championship game.

I was going to play nice.  Or as nice as I ever play, and simply make fun of baseball today.  But after mulling over “Dear Children of the Corn”  I decided that Cornhusker Jesus’ orders were only meant for show.

T.O. might be polite, but he’s the King Arthur kind of polite.  He’s the John J. Pershing kind of polite.  He may shake your hand and pat you on your burnt orange asses, but that was always moments before he ground your stupid Longhorns into the turf so hard he almost put back in the teeth that your overweight and overhyped offensive linemen were missing since birth.

The gloves are off, Blackwell and all you Bevo-loving hicks.

Blackwell’s letters were full of backhanded compliments.  Full of nose-in-the-smoggy-Dallas-air contempt for such a “hollow, shell of a program.”  Which would be just fine if he was an idiot with a keyboard (see: me.) but since he’s somehow swindled his way into getting paid so he can fire off shoddy, sensationalist “journalism” that belongs on the back pages of a tabloid next to lurid tales of “Dr. Phil’s Half-Vampire Love Child” and bold, salacious headlines like, “Texan says something intelligent.”

Unfortunately, I can only hit up Roget’s thesaurus to find so many synonyms for “pompous ass.”

But isn’t that phrase, which so adequately describes the smugness of the Burnt Orange and your “press” that follow the team, so appropriate?  In a state where “bigger is better,” is more than a way of life, perhaps it’s the University of Texas unchecked ego that has grown a little bit too big.

There is little doubt that some of what Blackwell said was true.  We did lose to Oklahoma, we have lost to Texas, and it will forever piss us off.  But, there is where Blackwell’s rambling and ranting and anti-Husker vitriol loses it’s luster.  Perhaps he forgot to check the scoreboard?

Perhpaps Blackwell, and the rest of the Texas Klan, who think that Matthew McConaughey is actually a good actor, missed something.  Maybe they missed Tom Osborne stepping back onto campus.  Maybe they missed a coach that takes sole responsibility for his teams losses, even when it wasn’t solely his fault, and just maybe Blackwell and the rest of his inbred homeboys forgot to wait and see what happens this Saturday.

I guess, perhaps, Blackwell’s computer lost power before he could type something worthwhile.  Maybe the local prison needed the additional electricity to electrocute another guy as fast as they could.  Texas, after all, loves their drive-thru Capital Punishment.

Maybe Blackwell wasn’t watching when Texas got freight-trained by a Rick Neuheisel-lead team.  No, that’s not a typo and I’ll space it out better so those of you with genetically dysfunctional eye problems from sisters-doing-things-to-brothers-that-shouldn’t-be-done can read it, Bastards of Bevo-ville: R-I-C-K                 FREAKING                N-E-U-H-E-I-S-E-L.

Maybe it’s because Texas has found itself with a coach that cares more about the number of stars next to a player’s name on a piece of paper and not enough about the competitors heart thudding underneath his jersey, that they find themselves staggering into this contest with 2 straight losses that they cling to their life-raft of arrogance even as the Big Red Tsunami approaches.

Mack Brown, of all people, should realize that his state is, after all, only 1-star.  Check the flag, Mack.

Whatever the reason, Texas and/or Blackwell, consider your apology pending.

After this game, Texas, when our “washed up program” gives you an 86,000-strong backhand to your smirking face, slapping the drawl clean out of your bucktoothed, “Slingblade”-sounding mouths.

After we utterly destroy your sacred cow, Bevo, so bad that even the most devout Hindi will simply shrug and say, “screw it, I’ll have the steak.”

After we slap you so hard that you forget the Alamo and volunteer to give back the land your unholy stadium is built on to Pancho Villa’s great, great, grandchildren.

After we slap your over paid and soon-to-be-defected-back-to-Georgia defensive coordinator so hard that Matthew McConaughey wants to put a shirt back on.

And after the Blackshirts publicly strip your quarterback of his manhood so badly that his fellow Texan, Lance Armstrong, will come forward and offer up his last testicle out of pity.

Then. . .maybe then we’ll accept your bruised, bloodied, carcass of an apology.

But, Mr. Blackwell, make sure you get on your knees first.

And, yes, that’s meant to be a double entendre.

FIN

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Comments
  1. madhat says:

    Oh, god, burnpoetry man, those sure are some fighting words!!! I’m trusting your total confidence in the victory on Saturday. Go Huskers!

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