Saturday, October 10, 2015

(Another) This Is THAT Day

reblogged from last year, 
the second weekend in October, 
the Only Weekend of the year, wherein
Frequently, lately, "these days" happen with clockwork regularity: 

But they always have yearly for me, an Oklahoma Sooner football AND a St. Louis Cardinal baseball fan.

I remember years when I was SOO caught up in Sooner football, that the Cardinals' fate that day meant less than zero to me.

    In those years, the Cardinals were about game 3 of their post season playoff series, and OU was itching to switch the Longhorns' asses to the tune of 65-13 or something equally, minimally satisfying.

Then later, the Cards would win game 2 or 3 against the most hated other team, or they would lose to same, it didn't matter; for there'd be another day for those two teams to play. [maybe tomorrow] In baseball, there's always a tomorrow, pitching.

Not SO in the Red River Rivalry, these days.

Damn the Texas Longhorns to hell for their uppitiness, for them to think [fill in their bloated, projected-wins, their bland babel ].

And so it goes, year after long summer's year, until we get to the second Saturday in October.

The Timelessness of Baseball ends in late October, then there's a release again in February with the Super Bowl, then ..., ..., ..., ,,,. until baseball season reignites in April full of hope and belief, 

and joy and pain, the ricochet of expectations verses the team's actuality:  Except for one Saturday afternoon in mid-October, today.

Surely, there must be some exquisite philosopher who, like me, recognizes this tidal change, this shift from brooding nonchalance in mid-May, to the irrepressible uproar of the stampede of footballers' feet in October, and is able to entirely encapsulate the whole of mankind, within those understandable boundaries.

OHH~, I hope it's me~! Though, only somewhat, because I am ultimately stupid. I'm merely swayed easily, by the yearly Tides, and the Bruins, and the many Wildcats; the sometimes ingenious Red Sox, the GIANTS, and for heaven's beloved sake, the Indians and the Braves. All valiant fighters of yore.

But for all of that, there are only 2 teams called "Sooners and Longhorns".  It is something so special, deep-fried in history, and topped off with pecans.
I seem to have swelled in the contemplative, competitive here;

In just a little over an hour, the current battle of the century will again be played in the Cotton Bowl; our burgers are ready, on the grill, gallons of beer are iced/ready;

Living, breathing pride is on the line,
great, and loud boasting and stomping, happening across 
your Chahta land, this year now,
there's NOTHING LIKE IT under creation
so here we go.  BOOMER SOONER~!

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