Your excruciatingly exciting account of the big game makes up in some small way for my disappointment at your rather dull approach to tailgating — my version involving family-filled station wagons & 18-wheelers (as described here). You’ve once again exposed that you can take the boy out of Texas — where people think nothing of driving 300 miles of poorly maintained Texas highways infested by heavily armed drunks, to watch a high school football game — but you can’t take the Texas out of the boy. Though I’ve foresworn football, I found myself wishing I’d flown half way around the world for a chance to meet Lacy. Quality dreck, man. Quality!
(And I still I would done exceptionally well at the Giant Piss Break, which you woefully under-reported.)