And by back I mean we went through some weird loophole where our backup QB has a questionable mustache & our linebackers have turned into full on grown ass men & Dylan Moses has become the wisest entity in the history of the earth realm, to the point where me, a 37 year old man with multiple hip injuries & questionable taste in literally everything finds themselves reveling in the wisdom of a 22 year old super senior who has had their lower extremities shredded & then somehow reassembled into the perfect burrito of death that can penetrate a pseudo spread offense full of plucky midwesterners & an announce team that somehow is convinced that St. Louis, Missouri is the epicenter of the college football world & that Eli is only a few players away from ascending the charts like the MIAMI SOUND MACHINE

Yes it went pretty much to plan but whatever let’s talk about the most important thing in the world & that is MY TWITTER ACCOUNT GETTING SUSPENDED

Honestly it was kind of an honor!? I’m assuming it was because I thought that Space Olympics Pirate Mike Leach would get boat raced by trying to spread LSU out but here we are I guess? I told y’all this season was gonna get real weird but y’all didn’t read that far & just bought into the click bait headline sheeple! I have THREE Webbys & a Cannes Lion! I literally make money from manipulating y’all! I preordered a PlayStation 5 off of Target DOT COM from this. IDIOTMAN!

I’m sorry Twitter I don’t mean it your platform still provides very high outreach numbers & despite a very clear pivot to video I can’t quite comprehend TikTok & I know y’all can’t dance so here we are doing the Alabama bolero behind avatars of beloved Dennis Franchione era running backs and/or Eric Cartman

say what you will about Coach Fran but he broke up with his players VIA PROTO-ZOOM and had the equivalent of a TINYLETTER so, honestly, a perfect coach for 2020

Look, not gonna lie, it was a TOUGH SCENE. I do not recommend it! I missed being a part of the dialogue of Oklahoma losing! And then LSU losing! And JW & Naj playing fucked up touchdown horse! And packages with MULTIPLE tight-ends! Seriously! We have so many tight ends this year! Do y’all ever play Madden & accidentally just put your offense into Jumbo Package and just LET IT RIDE? I do! It’s quite fun. If you can’t get a 58 Overall wearing the number 58 some touches, what are you even doing with your life!?  I had so much insight! Good thing I have a self-driven platform where you must listen to EVERY WORD I SAY or, you know, don’t give me the clicks


look, I gotta be real with y’all. I’ve been making idiotman columns for over five years & every year the TAMU column is the exact same. It’s Texas A&M. They’re a fucked up milk cult who are all past present and future farmers of America. There are BILLIONS of them–the 12th Man is 102,733 people! I can’t imagine a fate worse than having an office job overlooking the Río de los Brazos de Dios & being surrounded by these people who say that they are hard-scrabble because their grandfather was a FARMER who then sold his land to Phil Kean luxury homebuilders in the 1960s but kept a few acres to get that sweet farm subsidies $$$! Texas A&M fans are why Imagine Dragons is the best selling rock band of the 2010s.

Yep! STILL Jimbo! Yep! STILL Kellen Mond! Remember NICK STARKEL!? He’s 38 years old now! He has four kids! They live in Argyle! (*fact check*) just kidding! He is on his FIFTH head coach! He’s at San Jose State! There’s a really nice longform article on The Athletic about him! I am officially a NICK STARKEL FAN! Go Sparty!

So, defenses are behind offenses because of this shortened off-season–like, if teams are giving up a bunch of points early on (bet the over, just kidding, don’t bet at all on this season, it’s all nonsense) that will eventually even out. But! If your offense is STRUGGLING early on, well bud, I’m a little nervous for y’all!

All this is to say that Texas Ham scored 17 points against Vanderbilt. YIKES. Isaiah Spiller is kinda good? He is NOT related to CJ Spiller, so don’t worry, you’re not that old YET

We’ll see if they can run the ball at all, & if they can’t woooo boy the charges of JOYLESS HOMICIDEBALL get upgraded to JOYLESS WRECKLESSMANSLAUGHTERBALL

On Saturday I had a lovely time! I ate donuts & drank whiskey! I tried THREE foosackly’s sauces! I blabbed about El Crimson Tide to friends old & new! I clapped loudly at Christian Harris becoming an entirely different creature in ten months! We stopped the run! My cool wife lent me her phone so I could use it to make the tweet “Zendaya is Metchie” It was wonderful & made me appreciate that I can share these games with people that I love. Which is the entire point, right?

What is sport without fans? I know this is a deeper conversation than the default—how in less than a week 20,000 folks (plus a few slackers, not a math guy) will ascend the endless rotunda that is the march to NN-8 into what will be an Alabama GameDay experience ™ as long as Pop Pop figures out how to open a pdf (inshallah). But Alabama fandom is as much about the tangible self as it is about the universal. I am feeling deeply connected this season to those I am infinitely sad about not seeing in person this year—those I won’t be hugging over coozied Natty Light Seltzer in front of Carmichael Hall, or helping sneak into the ENGLISH BUILDING bathrooms, or making plans to hit up Druid City Friday night, or just feeling that good ass energy that hits when you see someone flashing their American Airlines ticket stub. You flying Main Cabin Extra!? Hell yeah! You’re on your way to see the Tide play!

Anyone who has been as fortunate as I am to meet the love of your life & throw a big ol’ expensive party in a haunted mansion knows the absolute best feeling of seeing friends of yours that you’ve met from all parts of your life descend upon a city and start making their way through different spots–those photos that people have smiling in front of Archibald’s blackened chimney, or that fluorescent yellow cup with the red script writing, or photos of the illuminated oddly bronzed Nick Saban statue’s giant wrist watch. (shoutout to our short king’s dye & tan job, fyi–he always looks crisp before the season starts). The feeling that comes close to that is friends coming to town for a big game–people excitedly appearing at random times, taking their children to Tuscaloosa for the first time, making the drive from Atlanta, photos of the “Sweet Home Alabama” sign as they cross over from Tennessee & Georgia–this communal gathering of love and excitement and whiskey cokes where everyone wears their Saturday best (shoutout Fits Out For The Tide), in a grand declaration.

Instead, I am here, in Tuscaloosa without y’all. It’s a space of privilege–there are days where I take University Boulevard despite it being much slower (shoutout to the Mario Kart level that is 15th Street) just so I can pass by the Stadium, or see University workers layering their 9,000th ton of mulch since June, or just to see the groups of families wearing their Friday Alabama gear (you know, the gear that’s not quite as good or has a few losses to SEC West teams under its belt so you demoted the look to Roll Tide Friday) waiting at the Campus & University light trying to talk themselves into eating Chipotle while being chatted up by my favorite ticket guy who always gave me water while on my long runs (& one time a Mountain Dew, don’t ask how that went).

On Saturday morning, I’m going to wake up. I’m going to go for a short run–my legs have been my worst enemies since 2019; constantly seizing up at inopportune times. I’m hoping I can push it a little further than usual–it is about 2.1 miles to the stadium from my house, but I just want to see it. I know that the tailgate tents won’t be there. I know that you won’t be there. But maybe I’ll get a glimpse of something that reminds me of y’all. Maybe I’ll head down 69 & pick up BBQ from Mr. Tee’s new Brick & Mortar (the smoked sausage is/has always been THE MOVE). Maybe I’ll see some friends & drink too much (again!).

Just know that Tuscaloosa misses you. And I miss you. It’s so easy to feel forgotten these days, but I promise you, you aren’t. Roll Tide.


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