Saturdays in Columbia

Mr. Brightside on repeat. Gold rush gear on. Tiger tail hanging out the back. We’re caffeinating and hydrating all the way to Columbia. By the time you read this we’ll be almost to Jefferson City. 

We play Bama today and this True Son is coming home. 

Speaking of Old Missouri, Fair Missouri, Dear Old Varsity . . . our fandom is a strange, complicated thing. 

Heisman winners? Zero

National Championships? Also Zero

National relevance? Nah

What if you were to start fresh, becoming a college football fan today?  If you looked at all the strong brands, the history, the performance on the field, the historic players — you would not choose to become a Mizzou fan. You’d pick Alabama, Georgia, Michigan, Ohio State, LSU, Texas or Oregon. 

But my fandom? It’s not about performance. They’re MY team. I’m an alum. The black and gold is part of my story. 

It’s vaguely similar to what it’s like to be Jude’s dad. 

Words? Zero

Sleep Schedule? Also Zero 

Potty Trained? Nah 

But it’s not about performance. It’s not about accolades or achievements. She’s mine. 

Forever.

And I’m her biggest fan. 

. . . . . . . 

M-I-Z

PS - This post isn’t about accepting mediocrity and discarding excellence. I want Ahmad Hardy to have a Heisman-worthy day with 300 yards rushing. I want Ty Simpson to have nightmares about Damon Wilson for decades. And, most importantly, I want our secondary to look like they have some clue about what they’re doing.