So a few hours ago on this rainy day in Jackson, Mississippi a good buddy called. "Hey, the wife's dad isn't going to make the trip this weekend up to Oxford, and we can't go--you want the tickets?"
I'm not saying I started crying, but I dang near did.
I'll be at the wedding of two close friends this Saturday--reading a Bible verse right around when the fourth quarter starts, I might add. Sadly, getting to see the Tide crush the Rebels isn't in the cards for me this year--but it will be for a lot of y'all, and I'm jealous of every one of you.
Gameday in Oxford is a wonderful thing, and while it took me years to appreciate the charms of the Grove, I've fallen for it like a hot second cousin at a funeral: you know it's wrong, you know you shouldn't be doing it, but it just feels right. It's also one of the friendliest places you'll go in the SEC, with a heavy emphasis on hospitality and graciousness. Ole Miss doesn't expect to have winning seasons, and they're a bit numb to that, like a callous on your heel after a week of wearing a pair of cheap shoe--but they have a good time on the way to the bottom.
They say they've never lost a party, and I will gladly concede that point--and they can win the damn party all they want this Saturday. I want another SEC Victory for this strong, steady Alabama team.
So I won't be there, but I did snag the tickets--and sent them up to my best friend in Memphis. She's a Rebel fan, but in some small way it will be like I'm there, too. But let's be honest: I want to be able to say for the next thirty years that I bought her tickets to the game where Alabama beat Ole Miss to pieces en route to a National Championship.