I was a senior in high school in Los Angeles and brought one of my best friends to the game with my family. Whole family is UT alumni and I went to a handful of games in Austin and the OU game after the family moved from Houston to LA in '88. '94 OU game and '95 Virginia in Austin (the Dawson FG) were my best trips to see the Horns as a youngster, but '97 UCLA was supposed to be the best yet: my lifelong team playing one of the huge schools of the city I'd grown up in. Brought my friend who was a UCLA fan and left LA talking a bunch of smack to all the Bruin homers believing we were suddenly a juggernaut coming off our Big 12 title season.
I personally couldn't watch anymore after 31-0 and was so annoyed at my friend's awkward, faux-respectful silence through it all that I insisted we leave and go drink in the endzone club with my uncle (being able to drink uninhibited at 17 was infinitely cooler than watching Texas get boatraced in stifling heat). I went back to the seats very late in the 4th and will never forget the site of our 80% empty stadium. My diehard father never abandoned his post and greeted me with the type of serious gaze that can only be interpreted as a warning not to engage. When it all ended, I berated my friend for the umpteenth time for giggling at the astonishing score and followed my father down the empty bleachers, expecting to enter the tunnel and exit the crime scene. However, Dad took a strange route along the railing at field level around the south endzone to the area where Texas was slowly trudging off the field, and I suddenly understood by his steely resolve that Dad was not going to leave without saying his piece. With Mackovic in sight and about 30 yards away Dad screamed: "Mackovic!" John heard him and looked. "PLEASE QUIT!!!!!!" And Johnny Mack actually held my father's gaze for about two seconds, almost as if he was struck by the realization that this season was going to be horrific, and undoubtedly his last.
So yes, I am just a little excited for this game Saturday. I want to win by five touchdowns but I'll take a more realistic 27-6 beating.
I personally couldn't watch anymore after 31-0 and was so annoyed at my friend's awkward, faux-respectful silence through it all that I insisted we leave and go drink in the endzone club with my uncle (being able to drink uninhibited at 17 was infinitely cooler than watching Texas get boatraced in stifling heat). I went back to the seats very late in the 4th and will never forget the site of our 80% empty stadium. My diehard father never abandoned his post and greeted me with the type of serious gaze that can only be interpreted as a warning not to engage. When it all ended, I berated my friend for the umpteenth time for giggling at the astonishing score and followed my father down the empty bleachers, expecting to enter the tunnel and exit the crime scene. However, Dad took a strange route along the railing at field level around the south endzone to the area where Texas was slowly trudging off the field, and I suddenly understood by his steely resolve that Dad was not going to leave without saying his piece. With Mackovic in sight and about 30 yards away Dad screamed: "Mackovic!" John heard him and looked. "PLEASE QUIT!!!!!!" And Johnny Mack actually held my father's gaze for about two seconds, almost as if he was struck by the realization that this season was going to be horrific, and undoubtedly his last.
So yes, I am just a little excited for this game Saturday. I want to win by five touchdowns but I'll take a more realistic 27-6 beating.
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