Dealing with Reality

Well, I sit here on a Sunday with another fall in shambles before it even gets started. The intent of this post isn’t to break down the details of yesterday’s gut punch 41-34 loss by my alma mater Mississippi State to Auburn. I’ll leave the analysis of the coaching, officiating, and players to the washed up coaches in the employ of ESPN and the message board lunatics. No, this is just the means of catharsis I am employing to handle the annual realization that Mississippi State football is forever doomed. As my wife said this morning after assessing the somber look on my face, “I just don’t think Mississippi State is ever going to be the program you want it to be.” To which I calmly responded with something along the lines of…



That’s a tough pill to swallow just one day removed from watching the wheels come off your team’s season for another year, even tougher when it all went down at Auburn. As a quick aside, they wasted no time in retiring Cam Newton’s number and slapping his smiling face up in the end zone of their stadium. It’s a nice reminder of the unseemly side of college football, which has come bubbling up to the surface in recent months. Watching your quarterback rifle a line drive pass into double coverage, then watching that pass bounce off a defender’s helmet into the arms of another Auburn defender who returns it for a touchdown, then looking up and seeing Cam Newton smiling back at you from the far end zone is just more than any person should have to confront.

Still, there’s something to be said for staring reality squarely in the face, though it is certainly not the only approach to overcoming disappointment. Shortly after my wife summed up the sad truth that Mississippi State football is mediocrity defined (at best), I found myself aimlessly wandering past the television in our living room. The great Joel Osteen was on, with his giant grin and strangely coiffured hair. Joel Osteen is clearly no fan of a beleaguered football program, unless his coping powers are considerably stronger than mine. He stood in front of the strange gold globe that serves as his backdrop and said “Think yourself happy, think yourself peaceful.”

Perhaps that IS the ticket, Joel. I’m happy and peaceful. I don’t need my fall to be defined by the anticipation of momentous football games with all the angst and emotion they entail. No sir, I can find peace and happiness as I did this fine Sunday afternoon, picking up endless piles of dog poo in my back yard and meticulously edging the dying grass in my front yard while trying not to break my wrist when the edger veers a bit too close to the driveway and sends sparks flying and a jolt through my wrist.

And I’m just scratching the surface of the many avenues other than college football available to me (and you, should you find yourself in similar straits two weeks into the season). Perhaps I'll look into scrapbooking or cooking classes. Or maybe I'll just have someone blindside me in the face with the Yellow Pages.