The look on Houston Nutt's face when we recovered that onside kick makes everything worth it. Despite being manhandled the entire night, Arkansas was still in the game. We won't go away. We'll haunt the rest of his career. You've heard about the battle and the war. Winning one game doesn't mean he's escaped with his dignity intact. The Razorbacks finally have a true rival, even if it's just Mississippi. Playing for the Boot is well and good, carefully designed and surprisingly fruitful for a wholly contrived exhibition, but there's nothing like genuine enmity to make for real drama. Word of antics on the Ole Miss sideline seems to indicate that they're content to fan the flames for a while. We'll see what song they're singing in a few seasons.
My baby brother brought his two-year-old up to Fayetteville this weekend for her first Hog game. I've been to sporting events with toddlers before, and I operated on the basis of two assumptions: 1). She'd be squirming by the second quarter, have wet her diapers by halftime, and be crying by the third. 2). At least if we did have to leave early, this was the season to do so.
Doesn't look like Razorback football to these guys.
I'll be the first to admit that my expectations for this season underestimated the difficulty of turning around a program in the all-powerful SEC — which must be somewhat akin to changing directions on an ocean liner, except there's perhaps more to it than simply turning a wheel. But we shouldn't let our previously sunny outlooks color our interpretations of that change in direction. We should grin and bear it. A friend from up north once told me that we remind him of Philadelphia Eagles fans, and I'm beginning to see his point. Instead of enduring the growing pains with the rest of the state, several Razorback fans — including the usually quite cogent Jim Harris of Arkansas Sports ˚360 — have retreated into outright fogeyism.
The tumbleweeds have really been piling up on ye old blog, due to a number of things, but mostly marriage planning and an issue with movable type. But I'm back again, here to chronicle best I can one of the most painful seasons in recent memory. Walking on Sunshine (one of my faves) invokes 1990. Blergh.
I haven't been on a message board all season on the assumption that logging in might trigger an emotional spiral. My own temperature's running too high to expose myself to others. If you keep up with the column at all, you know I've spent the last coupla weeks trying to see the good in all of this. I'll keep doing so until I see some reason not to think we're getting what we paid for....
So far, I think we're headed in the right direction, and I'd keep watching even if I weren't being paid to do so. I'm what you'd call a fan.