Bosco and Tanner were in the front yard barking. Neither seemed overly upset, just excited. Something clearly had their attention. I thought it was because they didn’t recognize my son and me. Perhaps that was correct, but I think there was another explanation. Although unrecognizable to me at the time, it was a foreshadowing event.
My mother decided to stay home. My son, my dad and I packed up my full-sized gas guzzler SUV with the ice chest, fat-saturated snacks, portable table and stadium seats. With totem window flags in place and magnetic helmet stickers on the doors, we were ready to leave. At that moment, there was no thought of the carbon footprint we were leaving; only the Tiger Paw print we were hoping to leave on the stomach of some Mountaineers.
We took the westerly trek down Interstate 85, and there were momentary glimpses of the sun playing hide and seek from behind the clouds. I began to think to myself that the weather was going to hold off, and it was going to be a good night. One of those songs that just kind of sticks in your mind…you know, the ones that you can’t get out of your mind when it finds itself buried within the gray matter….began to hum around in my cranium. Not that I really KNOW the song, just that my son likes to play it. It’s by The Black Eyed Peas and the words are something like: “I’ve got a feeling….that tonight’s gonna be a good night…that tonight’s gonna be a good good night…..”
We tailgated, libated and belly sated ourselves before heading to hallowed grounds. It was a little humid, but otherwise pleasant. The band was circling the playing field as we found our traditional seats. The stands were a sea of orange speckled with navy, with a smattering of yellow in one endzone corner and two upper deck corners. Just over my right shoulder, it was purple.
The rain began as a few drops, which soon turned to buckets. Just as the two teams were fininshing their warmups, the purple behind my right shoulder gave birth to a thunderbolt. The delay was begun.
It was then that I realized why Bosco and Tanner, who don’t live with the same families, were together in my parents’ front yard barking. They were gathering two by two. It’s the only explanation, because the next hour the rains came in diluvial proportion. I was expecting Noah to come floating out of the locker room tunnel, because Jordan-Hare Stadium was quickly becoming a lake.
The students never left. They sang. They shouted. They partied. One student was overheard shouting, “I love a little water with my bourbon”. The stadium sound system belted out Dan Fogerty of Credence Clearwater Revival singing “I wanna know...have you ever seen the rain?” And even after the watershed delay, the students were revved up to a level I haven’t seen in a couple of years. It carried over.
The eagle didn’t fly Saturday night. He couldn’t because of the weather. Instead, I heard that a dove was released to see if he would bring back an olive branch. I'm sure that happened, because Auburn handed that peace gift to West Virginia in the first two series of the game. It was as if Auburn said, “Welcome to Auburn, sorry about the rain, here….take a couple of touchdowns on us. It’s a southern hospitality thang.”
And still…the students never let up. They never sat down. They never quietened down. They were too loose, too wet and too happy to stop the enthusiasm over a couple of hand delivered touchdowns. After all, the night was young, and a coupple of gift wrapped TD's ain't gonna stop the rain that had become their party.
Auburn seemed to get stronger as the night wore on…the crowd seemed to get louder as the clock ticked on….the mountaineers seemed to make more mistakes as the Alabama evening beckoned on….and an orange and blue rainbow seemed to appear on the horizon as evening turned to late night. (O.K., it was a blimp of some sort behind a few lingering clouds, but let’s not mess up a good story).
A game that started out as a continuation of the last time Auburn and West Virginia met, spun on a wet and muddy dime, and became something altogether different. It was as if all those lingering doubts and concerns and leftover feelings of 2008 were washed away. Literally. Auburn’s defense rose up from the mud that was the stadium floor, and sealed a victory with an interception run back for a touchdown.
Oh, sure, Auburn has a long way to go. But this all has a new feel to it. And West Virginia was a pretty good football team.
One of the first things Gene Chizik said after he was introduced as the new Head Football Coach of the Auburn Tigers was, “we’re going to get Auburn back to where it was, to where it should be. But we’re going to build our program the right way, and we’re not going to take any shortcuts.”
Kind of reminds me of what Noah had to say about building the ark. And THAT’S something a couple of dogs can bark to.
WJLaneSR
Monday, September 21, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
From Hot to Cold....or "Blowin like a breeze?"
We arrived the day before. The weather was o.k., clear, a bit breezy. It was really hard to tell where downtown was. We drove 70 miles from the Pittsburg airport to get there.
Our hotel was beside the interstate. It was late afternoon when we arrived, and we were hungry. We ate dinner at a chicken-wing type bar that seemed more suited for the NASCAR crowd than for a college town. Thank goodness we decided to drive around and find the stadium. Had we not done this, I don’t know if we ever would have found it the next day. It was hidden between two “almost heaven” mountains.
I can’t help but remember that weekend last year as this Saturday’s game approaches.
My son, my dad and I made the trip to Morgantown last year to see the Auburn/West Virginia game. And that weekend sticks in my mind, my craw and my gut as the straw that broke the camel’s proverbial back for the 2008 Auburn Tigers. It was a Tiger team that fell apart that night.
It was cold. My son had on two shirts, a sweatshirt and a heavy coat. He was still cold. I had on a long sleeve shirt, a coat and gloves, and I was cold. Sitting high in the endzone facing the wind with the stadium down in a holler between two hills didn’t help, because the wind shot directly toward us as though we were in a wind tunnel.
The following January, I had a conversation about that night with Mark May. Yes, that Mark May from ESPN. I was in the concierge lounge at the Marriott East in New York, just across the street from the Waldorf, the night before the College Football Hall of Fame induction ceremony. Mark May was staying at the same hotel as me. He came into the concierge lounge, and we struck up a conversation. It centered around Auburn, because I had on my orange and blue “AU” cap.
May told me that he was at the West Virginia game, and knew something wasn’t right when he looked at the Auburn sideline. Although at the time Auburn was ahead, the players NOT on the field were huddled around the jet heaters trying to get warm. They weren’t paying attention to the ballgame. He said that Coach Tubs got so mad about it that he had the heaters turned off at halftime, not to be turned on again during the game. He said that coaches were yelling at each other, players were shivering, and everyone seemed to be confused. I didn’t recall seeing any of this, but I was a part of 3 generations of Lanes being frozen by a Big East windstorm at the time.
What I DID see in the second half was heat from the other sideline. Heat in the form of Noel Devine. I saw him zip around, through and over Auburn’s defense for 207 yards rushing. I saw an Auburn defense coming apart at the seems. I saw an Auburn offense that never could find the seems. Mark May saw a football team on the sideline falling apart right before his eyes. A national television audience saw a Tuberville coached team quit late in the fourth quarter…giving up a meaningless touchdown because the team was already defeated.
Fast forward to this week. Auburn is favored in the game. It won’t be cold. Both offenses have big play potential. This will NOT be an easy game for Auburn. It will be even more difficult for West Virginia.
For all the hype of both these offenses, and all that hype is deserved, this game will be won by the defense. The defense that can put the other offense in 1st and long. The defense that can keep the other offense off the field. The defense that can put fast, speed rush on the quarterback. And the defense that can stop two potentially potent rushing games.
I do predict a high score. But when the dust from the Plains settles (and it may be mud, according to the weatherman), it will be Auburn 34- West Virginia 24.
WJLaneSR
Our hotel was beside the interstate. It was late afternoon when we arrived, and we were hungry. We ate dinner at a chicken-wing type bar that seemed more suited for the NASCAR crowd than for a college town. Thank goodness we decided to drive around and find the stadium. Had we not done this, I don’t know if we ever would have found it the next day. It was hidden between two “almost heaven” mountains.
I can’t help but remember that weekend last year as this Saturday’s game approaches.
My son, my dad and I made the trip to Morgantown last year to see the Auburn/West Virginia game. And that weekend sticks in my mind, my craw and my gut as the straw that broke the camel’s proverbial back for the 2008 Auburn Tigers. It was a Tiger team that fell apart that night.
It was cold. My son had on two shirts, a sweatshirt and a heavy coat. He was still cold. I had on a long sleeve shirt, a coat and gloves, and I was cold. Sitting high in the endzone facing the wind with the stadium down in a holler between two hills didn’t help, because the wind shot directly toward us as though we were in a wind tunnel.
The following January, I had a conversation about that night with Mark May. Yes, that Mark May from ESPN. I was in the concierge lounge at the Marriott East in New York, just across the street from the Waldorf, the night before the College Football Hall of Fame induction ceremony. Mark May was staying at the same hotel as me. He came into the concierge lounge, and we struck up a conversation. It centered around Auburn, because I had on my orange and blue “AU” cap.
May told me that he was at the West Virginia game, and knew something wasn’t right when he looked at the Auburn sideline. Although at the time Auburn was ahead, the players NOT on the field were huddled around the jet heaters trying to get warm. They weren’t paying attention to the ballgame. He said that Coach Tubs got so mad about it that he had the heaters turned off at halftime, not to be turned on again during the game. He said that coaches were yelling at each other, players were shivering, and everyone seemed to be confused. I didn’t recall seeing any of this, but I was a part of 3 generations of Lanes being frozen by a Big East windstorm at the time.
What I DID see in the second half was heat from the other sideline. Heat in the form of Noel Devine. I saw him zip around, through and over Auburn’s defense for 207 yards rushing. I saw an Auburn defense coming apart at the seems. I saw an Auburn offense that never could find the seems. Mark May saw a football team on the sideline falling apart right before his eyes. A national television audience saw a Tuberville coached team quit late in the fourth quarter…giving up a meaningless touchdown because the team was already defeated.
Fast forward to this week. Auburn is favored in the game. It won’t be cold. Both offenses have big play potential. This will NOT be an easy game for Auburn. It will be even more difficult for West Virginia.
For all the hype of both these offenses, and all that hype is deserved, this game will be won by the defense. The defense that can put the other offense in 1st and long. The defense that can keep the other offense off the field. The defense that can put fast, speed rush on the quarterback. And the defense that can stop two potentially potent rushing games.
I do predict a high score. But when the dust from the Plains settles (and it may be mud, according to the weatherman), it will be Auburn 34- West Virginia 24.
WJLaneSR
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Just Another Thursday Meeting
The meeting was uneventful. We exchanged business cards. We exchanged pleasantries. We talked about when they had done business for a former company I worked for several years earlier. He asked about some people I knew, I asked about some people he knew, we basically “caught each other up".
Bud worked for The Hartford. They had been our Worker’s Compensation carrier at my previous company. He wanted meet with me, pitch the business, and I was willing to listen. After all, I was in New York anyway, and he was buying lunch. I had sat through what seemed to be hundreds of these type meetings before, and hundreds since. It was just another Thursday business-lunch meeting.
We ate lunch outside on the pavilion, pastrami sandwiches if I recall, because the day was nice. Breezy, but nice. Of course, there’s always a breeze downtown.
After lunch, I took the subway back to our offices.
That was Thursday. Thursday, September 7.
At that time, The Hartford’s office was in one of the surrounding buildings. It was Building #6. That’s where our meeting took place, and that’s the last time I saw Bud.
Tomorrow marks the 8th anniversary of 9-11. 5 days after I was at #6 World Trade Center. The following Tuesday after I had been there on Thursday. Bud was one of those people never found.
I’ve thought about this often over the last eight years. How I could have been meeting him on Tuesday of the following week instead of Thursday the week before. Was it a scheduling issue? Was September 7th always the date we were going to meet? Did we change the date? I really don’t remember. I’ve tried, but I just don’t.
What I DO know is, I could have just as easily been there on 9-11 as 9-7. As were thousands of other people.
Usually, I write about fun things like first downs and touchdowns. I brag on my Tigers and rag on the other SEC teams. And I will do that again.
But not today. For we are on the eve of the 8th anniversary of my generation’s Pearl Harbor. The U.S. attacked. On her shores. War declared.
Tomorrow is a day of remembrance. I happen to be in New York as I write this, and I see many people going about their everyday business…the hustle and bustle that IS the city. I wonder how many of them will pause tomorrow….and remember….and honor the fallen.
Let’s never forget. I know I won’t forget. I won’t forget how I could have been there on Tuesday instead of Thursday. I won't forget what they did to us. And I won’t forget Bud.
WJLaneSR
Bud worked for The Hartford. They had been our Worker’s Compensation carrier at my previous company. He wanted meet with me, pitch the business, and I was willing to listen. After all, I was in New York anyway, and he was buying lunch. I had sat through what seemed to be hundreds of these type meetings before, and hundreds since. It was just another Thursday business-lunch meeting.
We ate lunch outside on the pavilion, pastrami sandwiches if I recall, because the day was nice. Breezy, but nice. Of course, there’s always a breeze downtown.
After lunch, I took the subway back to our offices.
That was Thursday. Thursday, September 7.
At that time, The Hartford’s office was in one of the surrounding buildings. It was Building #6. That’s where our meeting took place, and that’s the last time I saw Bud.
Tomorrow marks the 8th anniversary of 9-11. 5 days after I was at #6 World Trade Center. The following Tuesday after I had been there on Thursday. Bud was one of those people never found.
I’ve thought about this often over the last eight years. How I could have been meeting him on Tuesday of the following week instead of Thursday the week before. Was it a scheduling issue? Was September 7th always the date we were going to meet? Did we change the date? I really don’t remember. I’ve tried, but I just don’t.
What I DO know is, I could have just as easily been there on 9-11 as 9-7. As were thousands of other people.
Usually, I write about fun things like first downs and touchdowns. I brag on my Tigers and rag on the other SEC teams. And I will do that again.
But not today. For we are on the eve of the 8th anniversary of my generation’s Pearl Harbor. The U.S. attacked. On her shores. War declared.
Tomorrow is a day of remembrance. I happen to be in New York as I write this, and I see many people going about their everyday business…the hustle and bustle that IS the city. I wonder how many of them will pause tomorrow….and remember….and honor the fallen.
Let’s never forget. I know I won’t forget. I won’t forget how I could have been there on Tuesday instead of Thursday. I won't forget what they did to us. And I won’t forget Bud.
WJLaneSR
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Dancing with the Stars
She is the artistic director of the New England Dance Ensemble in Manchester, New Hampshire. She learned the art as a boarding student in Chester, England.
Barbara made sure her three children – Dan, Patrick and Katie – had an eye for the arts and an ear for classical music. “The boys danced. Being from Wales, I just felt they needed that exposure. We don’t find it weird (in England) for boys to dance. Here in America, there’s a social stigma attached to it and it’s not a cool thing to do.”
While at the same time raising her three children, her family hosted dancers from around the world, including the English National Ballet, the Royal Ballet, and the National Ballet of Madrid.
Not only did all three children learn to dance, they also learned to play musical instruments. The oldest of the three, Dan, learned to play the piano. In fact, he became somewhat of a novice concert pianist.
When he was growing up, Dan and his brother also enjoyed playing with the other boys. Especially football. They were the only brothers in their neighborhood who practiced ballet on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and practiced football on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday morning.
By the time Dan was in high school, he was the quarterback for Trinity High School. They would win the state championship that year.
Dan reflects that “ballet involves great athleticism and flexibility. When you watch some world class dancers and watch their ability, it is pretty impressive. Dance and football are very similar with commitment, dedication and the amount of people involved. It requires a tremendous amount of teamwork.”
Dan continued his passion for football, but never gave up his love for dance. Playing tight end at Ursinus College, he became hard-nosed as well.
Being from New Hampshire, he became good friends with Chip Kelley, head football coach at Oregon, and Gary Crowton, coordinator at LSU. The three of them became known in football circles as “The New Hampshire Mafia.”
Dan became a part of Urban Mayer’s staff at Utah, and followed him to Florida, where he became offensive coordinator and quarterbacks coach. Then, in December 2008, he was hired to replace Sylvester Croom as the Head Football Coach of Mississippi State.
His name is Dan Mullen. And on Saturday, he brings his maroon clad bulldogs into Jordan-Hare Stadium to face the Auburn Tigers.
He hasn’t given up playing the piano, but now he also plays a cowbell. And being the head football coach at an SEC school isn’t a bad gig. I guess you might say that now, he is dancing with the stars.
WJLaneSR
Barbara made sure her three children – Dan, Patrick and Katie – had an eye for the arts and an ear for classical music. “The boys danced. Being from Wales, I just felt they needed that exposure. We don’t find it weird (in England) for boys to dance. Here in America, there’s a social stigma attached to it and it’s not a cool thing to do.”
While at the same time raising her three children, her family hosted dancers from around the world, including the English National Ballet, the Royal Ballet, and the National Ballet of Madrid.
Not only did all three children learn to dance, they also learned to play musical instruments. The oldest of the three, Dan, learned to play the piano. In fact, he became somewhat of a novice concert pianist.
When he was growing up, Dan and his brother also enjoyed playing with the other boys. Especially football. They were the only brothers in their neighborhood who practiced ballet on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and practiced football on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday morning.
By the time Dan was in high school, he was the quarterback for Trinity High School. They would win the state championship that year.
Dan reflects that “ballet involves great athleticism and flexibility. When you watch some world class dancers and watch their ability, it is pretty impressive. Dance and football are very similar with commitment, dedication and the amount of people involved. It requires a tremendous amount of teamwork.”
Dan continued his passion for football, but never gave up his love for dance. Playing tight end at Ursinus College, he became hard-nosed as well.
Being from New Hampshire, he became good friends with Chip Kelley, head football coach at Oregon, and Gary Crowton, coordinator at LSU. The three of them became known in football circles as “The New Hampshire Mafia.”
Dan became a part of Urban Mayer’s staff at Utah, and followed him to Florida, where he became offensive coordinator and quarterbacks coach. Then, in December 2008, he was hired to replace Sylvester Croom as the Head Football Coach of Mississippi State.
His name is Dan Mullen. And on Saturday, he brings his maroon clad bulldogs into Jordan-Hare Stadium to face the Auburn Tigers.
He hasn’t given up playing the piano, but now he also plays a cowbell. And being the head football coach at an SEC school isn’t a bad gig. I guess you might say that now, he is dancing with the stars.
WJLaneSR
Monday, September 7, 2009
All things are become new
What a strange Labor Day Weekend. The dawning of the 2009 college football season. The end of summer. The beginning of a new school year. The Good Book would sum it up like this: "Old things have passed away, behold, all things are become new."
And yet, I entered the weekend feeling as though I were brining some old baggage with me. It felt a little like "not ALL things are become new."
Not that this was a typical and normal Labor Day Weekend for me. Quite the contrary. One of my daughters was in Charleston where she goes to school. Another daughter was in Charlotte where she will be attending school. And yet another daughter was on her pilgrimage way to Portland, Oregon. My wife was riding with her across the fruited plain, traveling some 3000 miles in a Honda Civic. They were enjoying the wide expanse of states like Kansas, Colorado, Wyoming and Utah. All the while my son, who is 13, was spending the weekend camping in the North Carolina Mountains.
So that left me…and the dog.
Fortunately, I have a nephew who is going to school at Spartanburg Methodist College, and between him and my “Charlotte” daughter, they tag-team dog sat. This freed me up to take advantage of my favorite pastime. After all, Saturday was the start of a new Auburn football season. And besides, I already had someone lined up to teach my Sunday School Class for me.
So, all by myself, I loaded up my Expedition with a stadium seat and other paraphanelia. Then on Friday evening I headed for my parents house. They lived in a small town on the Alabama/Georgia border. What should have been a 4 hour drive turned into something much more. A large contingent of the Virginia Tech nation was heading to Atlanta, and the holiday weekend traffic had already begun. To top it off, when I got below Atlanta, I-85 is a total mess. Literally.
Arrive I did, though, and on Saturday I travelled to the Plains of Alabama with my parents to see the Auburn Tigers play.
Which brings me to the baggage I felt I was bringing. You see, I had this nagging feeling that Deja Vous was about to happen. That I was about to see a rerun of the Tony Franklin experiment. Not that I WANTED that to happen, mind you, but that shadow, like a little demon-dude, was sitting on my shoulder. And he was still sitting there when I entered Jordan-Hare Stadium.
Until I saw the kickers come out to warm up. I began to watch Assistant Coach Trooper Taylor working the sideline crowd (most of whom were recruits). He was jump-hipping them, sneaking up behind them and “goosing” them, jumping into their photo-ops, and just having fun. And the recruits were eating it up. They were laughing, high-fiving, and having a blast. Unlike what I saw last year, which was much more business-like when visiting with recruits.
The team came out with a vigor and enthusiasm that I hadn’t seen in quite some time. And the sideline signals didn't look like a cross-walk crowd in Manhattan just as the traffic light changes.
Then it dawned on me….this wasn’t a Tony Franklin team. Not at all. This was something different.
To continue the weirdness of the evening, a family of 6 showed up to sit in 4 seats right in front of us. They squeezed, sat on top of each other, and clearly didn't know Section 13's manners and etiquette. Oh, they weren't foul mouthed or bad, they were just standing up, taking pictures, talking to people around them, and asking questions about how much these seats cost, what did you think of the last coach, and what do you think of this one.
My dad leaned over and whispered a question to me. “Does he look like anybody to you?”
My response was direct and immediate. I told him “Yes, he looks just like Gene Chizik, and even sounds like him.” We agreed that this was as close to a twin as one could get. And I have to say, I’m not convinced RIGHT NOW that it wasn’t Coach Chizik’s brother.
The eagle flew pregame, and for the first time I ever remember, it flew outside the confines of the stadium for a minute…but came back in. The band played, the tigers roared, and as we all know, Auburn was victorious.
The baggage I came with was unloaded in Section 13 Saturday night. This wasn’t last year’s team. This was something else. Maybe something special. Well over 500 yards offense, the longest play from scrimmage in Auburn history, a true freshman who rushed for 150 yards (first time that has happened since Bo Jackson), and a second running back with over 100 yards rushing as well. Two 49 yard field goals….I could go on and on.
Will all this continue into next week when an SEC opponent comes into town? I don’t know. There’s not a little shadow-dude on my shoulder to tell me. After all, the old things have passed away, and behold, all things are become new.
WJLaneSR
And yet, I entered the weekend feeling as though I were brining some old baggage with me. It felt a little like "not ALL things are become new."
Not that this was a typical and normal Labor Day Weekend for me. Quite the contrary. One of my daughters was in Charleston where she goes to school. Another daughter was in Charlotte where she will be attending school. And yet another daughter was on her pilgrimage way to Portland, Oregon. My wife was riding with her across the fruited plain, traveling some 3000 miles in a Honda Civic. They were enjoying the wide expanse of states like Kansas, Colorado, Wyoming and Utah. All the while my son, who is 13, was spending the weekend camping in the North Carolina Mountains.
So that left me…and the dog.
Fortunately, I have a nephew who is going to school at Spartanburg Methodist College, and between him and my “Charlotte” daughter, they tag-team dog sat. This freed me up to take advantage of my favorite pastime. After all, Saturday was the start of a new Auburn football season. And besides, I already had someone lined up to teach my Sunday School Class for me.
So, all by myself, I loaded up my Expedition with a stadium seat and other paraphanelia. Then on Friday evening I headed for my parents house. They lived in a small town on the Alabama/Georgia border. What should have been a 4 hour drive turned into something much more. A large contingent of the Virginia Tech nation was heading to Atlanta, and the holiday weekend traffic had already begun. To top it off, when I got below Atlanta, I-85 is a total mess. Literally.
Arrive I did, though, and on Saturday I travelled to the Plains of Alabama with my parents to see the Auburn Tigers play.
Which brings me to the baggage I felt I was bringing. You see, I had this nagging feeling that Deja Vous was about to happen. That I was about to see a rerun of the Tony Franklin experiment. Not that I WANTED that to happen, mind you, but that shadow, like a little demon-dude, was sitting on my shoulder. And he was still sitting there when I entered Jordan-Hare Stadium.
Until I saw the kickers come out to warm up. I began to watch Assistant Coach Trooper Taylor working the sideline crowd (most of whom were recruits). He was jump-hipping them, sneaking up behind them and “goosing” them, jumping into their photo-ops, and just having fun. And the recruits were eating it up. They were laughing, high-fiving, and having a blast. Unlike what I saw last year, which was much more business-like when visiting with recruits.
The team came out with a vigor and enthusiasm that I hadn’t seen in quite some time. And the sideline signals didn't look like a cross-walk crowd in Manhattan just as the traffic light changes.
Then it dawned on me….this wasn’t a Tony Franklin team. Not at all. This was something different.
To continue the weirdness of the evening, a family of 6 showed up to sit in 4 seats right in front of us. They squeezed, sat on top of each other, and clearly didn't know Section 13's manners and etiquette. Oh, they weren't foul mouthed or bad, they were just standing up, taking pictures, talking to people around them, and asking questions about how much these seats cost, what did you think of the last coach, and what do you think of this one.
My dad leaned over and whispered a question to me. “Does he look like anybody to you?”
My response was direct and immediate. I told him “Yes, he looks just like Gene Chizik, and even sounds like him.” We agreed that this was as close to a twin as one could get. And I have to say, I’m not convinced RIGHT NOW that it wasn’t Coach Chizik’s brother.
The eagle flew pregame, and for the first time I ever remember, it flew outside the confines of the stadium for a minute…but came back in. The band played, the tigers roared, and as we all know, Auburn was victorious.
The baggage I came with was unloaded in Section 13 Saturday night. This wasn’t last year’s team. This was something else. Maybe something special. Well over 500 yards offense, the longest play from scrimmage in Auburn history, a true freshman who rushed for 150 yards (first time that has happened since Bo Jackson), and a second running back with over 100 yards rushing as well. Two 49 yard field goals….I could go on and on.
Will all this continue into next week when an SEC opponent comes into town? I don’t know. There’s not a little shadow-dude on my shoulder to tell me. After all, the old things have passed away, and behold, all things are become new.
WJLaneSR
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