This past Sunday, I experienced a sort of monumental shift in my life. It was essentially like any other Sunday I’ve had the past three and a half years, yet strangely different. Yes, this Sunday marked the last time I would stand in front of the Auburn Wesley Foundation’s Sunday Night Worship with my guitar, leading worship. Without a doubt, it was a bittersweet evening.
My journey with Wesley’s worship life began in late 2006 when I was approached by Joe Davis, the Worship Chair at that time. Joe and I hadn’t met, so pretty much all he knew about me was I was “that new guy from Belmont that majored in bass.” As fate (God?) would have it, the band he played drums in had a bass-shaped hole, so he extended an invitation for me to join in the upcoming semester. I readily accepted, as I was still searching out my place not only at Wesley, but at Auburn as well.
From the spring of 2007 on, every other Sunday afternoon consisted of me arriving at Wesley around 5:00 pm, setting up and preparing to lead that night at 8:00. Shortly after I began playing bass in Joe’s band, the worship leader for the other band at Wesley decided to leave, thereby leaving another need. I auditioned and was selected to lead that band as well, so every single Sunday went about the same.
I’d be lying if I said that every single group I’ve played with here has been a rosy experience. In all honesty, that first band I’d ever actually led was miserable. There were personal conflicts, musical conflicts, and even theological conflicts. Not a great recipe for the worship life of your ministry. Through it all, however, God was hammering me like a piece of metal to form me into what He needed me to be. From that point on, I led worship at Wesley.
A friend and mentor asked me about my last experience on Monday morning. “What was it like last night, knowing it was your last time?” she asked. Bittersweet, I told her. It was refreshing, knowing I would finally have Sunday afternoons to enjoy, not having to set up equipment for practice or make copies of sheet music because the members of my band keep losing theirs, and being able to pass the torch I’ve held for probably too long to someone else. It was tough, though. This had been my home. At that point, she agreed, and added this stark realization:
“I mean, it’s kind of been your identity.”
My identity. Who I was. Nothing could’ve been truer. I’ve done a lot of things at Wesley. Almost all of those things have been tied to worship. Worship for me has been the way that I serve.
To leave that all behind has in a way left me without something to cling to.
We are called to sometimes leave those identities behind I suppose. To offer ourselves to God to be hammered and formed into the next tool for the Kingdom. To pick up our Cross and move to the next station, whereby God says to us, “Helluva job. Now let’s get to work.”
God has blessed me tremendously through worship. I’ve never pretended to be a good musician, singer, or worship leader. It’s been pretty horrible at times. Those times that have formed this identity for me, though, are the times that it’s been just that. Times when my mind would wander in the middle of a song, only to be Divinely corrected and centered by butchering a chord or forgetting the words. Times when I would get either frustrated with my partners in worship, or worse, apathetic. Times when I hear my recorded voice and cringe at the pitch-iness of it all.
For me, that’s what worship is. Bringing before God your brokenness, your troubles, fears, anxieties, vices and hurts and laying them down saying, “Holy are You.” We try to bring our best, knowing that it’s not and will never be good enough. Yet we still come, singing of the mercy of God, all the while not being completely sure if we’ll get it again…
…but we do.
We praise in our songs the glory and majesty of God, even though sometimes we wonder if it will still be available to us, even after all the awful stuff we’ve done…
…but it is.
We sing of loving one another, even though when we leave we’ll go back to our computers and newspapers and read of the suffering, oppressed, hurting and alienated and do nothing…and I mean nothing…about it, or even do things in opposition to them, then realize it and think, “Surely God cannot do anything with me now…”
…but He does.
Worship is pouring out our love to God and receiving His love in return. I’m undeservedly blessed to have been able to pour out and receive for almost four years.
So now as I trade my worship identity for another…
…oops I mean…
...I go forward in whatever God has for me next, proclaiming the mystery that is in us:
Christ has died, Christ has risen, Christ will come again. Thanks be to God.
One of the best parts of my trip to Latvia was listening to Beesh, Mitchell and Bob communicate almost exclusively in accents they deemed "Latvian." None were really close, but they made for some really, really funny moments. I've been meaning to do this since the trip, but am just now revisiting the idea. So, without further adieu...
sounded like
Beesh was known as the Latvian Borat, randomly yelling "Whatsup Girl" out the window of the Europcar and shouting insults about gypsies at the 100-foot statue in the Vilnius square.
sounded like
Jimmy Swaggart-wannabe Mitchell Nelson took Beesh's accent, warped it a little bit, then came out sounding like Waluigi off Mario Kart. Hello, Lady!
sounded like
Honing his French skills in high school and college, Bob-o dropped the language but kept the accent as we traveled the Baltics. Photo inspiration courtesy of Neal NeSmith. Check out his blog Tri-Like-An-Eagle.
So there you have it. Next time you're in Latvia and Lithuania, unless you have these three accents surrounding you at all times, you probably won't have as much fun as we did.
“You can surely tell you’ve created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.” -anne lamott
My feelings toward Glenn Beck are not a secret. Any length of time spent scanning my facebook page would reveal any one of Jon Stewart, the dailykos or the Huffington Post reaming the Fox News personality for the latest black-hole-stupid thing he’s said.
If you’ve ever watched or listened to a select piece of his TV or radio program, you’ll know that Mr. Beck sincerely loves his country. So much so that he is willing to willingly broadcast complete falsities with no repercussions or accountability from his network or fans to make sure that his country doesn’t fall into the hands of those he hates.
For months now, his program has featured an actor dressed up in Communist garb sitting on the set waiting to answer a fake phone from…somebody. I’m not really sure what this act of pure grandstanding seeks to accomplish to be honest. His radical claims that the Obama administration is slowly ushering in socialism, communism, Nazism, or any other –ism you can think of goes not only unchecked, but also unchallenged by the viewers of his program.
It was no surprise, then, that this week Beck urged Americans to leave any church that preached a message of social justice.
I am now convinced that Glenn Beck is merely a tool of the Dark One to focus my attention away from anything important and to get me so riled up that I can’t even think straight.
As I discussed this on the phone with Pops yesterday, he said as he laughed, “Well, I guess Jesus would have to leave His own church.” I guess He’s right, assuming we’re talking about white-skinned, red-blooded, apple pie eating, brown flowing haired American Jesus. That assumption wouldn’t deal with Jesus the Christ at all.
The Gospel without a message of social justice is simply no Gospel at all. Rob Bell says in Jesus Wants to Save Christians that God always fights for victims of injustice. For Glenn to assert that churches, synagogues and parishes that preach social justice are just veils of communism and Nazism is to surely say, as Anne says up top, that he, much like many Americans, has created God in his own image.
When we use our American Tea Party hermeneutic to interpret Scripture, we will most certainly come to the same conclusion that those who tune into the Glenn Beck Program experience. When we read the Bible objectively, being as faithful to the historicity of the text as we are able, then we see that Jesus was ALL about justice…even social and economic justice!
What it comes down to, though, is that no matter our philosophy on government, no matter what party and politician we align ourselves with, the call of Christ remains that we are to love our God and neighbor with all that is in us.
Even those that seek to divide the country with false information and vitriol, without so much as a college degree to back it up.
Even, much to my dismay, Glenn Beck.
For more views on this check out "An Open Letter to Glenn Beck" by Jack Hinnen at A United Method
A few months ago, I drove to Duke to visit with a friend and poke around the Div School once more. While I was there, I was fortunate enough to catch a forum/discussion between a local news anchor and Stanley Hauerwas, Duke professor and one of the more renowned theologians in the country. The forum, titled, “Christianity in the World Today: A Conversation with Hauerwas,” centered on current and cultural events and how they related to Christianity in the world.
Inevitably, one of the first topics that Dr. Hauerwas was asked about was the then-hot topic of health-care reform. If we’re being honest, I expected a much different answer than “America’s Best Theologian,” dubbed by Time Magazine, gave. Being the academic bastion of modern Christian ethics that he was and is, I anticipated an answer that indicted the current health-care system in its for-profit nature; I expected a scathing attack on the insurance industry, the far-right supercapitalists who held no regard for each human life that deteriorated because of inability to afford costs, and lastly (and probably least) the lobbyists and politicians that fought for the current system to stay in place. I’m sure my expectations weren’t much different from everyone else in the room, either.
What I got was much, much different.
Hauerwas instead spoke of modern aversion to pain, suffering and mortality. In a short, slightly annoyed sounding response, he spoke of how people today are so sickened by the thought of death we try to avoid it at whatever cost. The human touch, he said, is a lost art. Instead of being there with a loved one as they die, we insist on looking for the newest cure that will, at best, lengthen the life by a few years. We are so insulated from feeling pain and being with those that are sick, he added, that we cannot imagine having to actually care for someone in their last days.
On the hoof, I felt it was an overly callous response. What could someone, high atop his or her ivory tower in the academy, know about real pain anyway? Isn’t this just another example of people like him talking at an issue rather than speaking words of wisdom?
That was all before Haiti.
When the earthquake struck, I simply could not bring myself to watch the videos and look at the pictures. It was a catastrophe for which I saw no light, no hope and no way out for a nation that had no hope to begin with.
Why could I not allow myself to feel some of the pain that an entire country was feeling? Sure, I jumped quickly to donate money through the Red Cross, UMCOR and other organizations that would aid the victims. I knew they needed prayer, so we collectively prayed at Wesley on Thursday. But, what held me from feeling the pain through the pictures and videos?
Could that brilliant, cranky old professor have been right?
It is easy to throw money at a situation. It is not so easy to get down on the level of the victim of a situation, to feel that pain with them, to hurt with them, to cry with them. What I discovered through my episode with the pictures and video was that I, indeed, had become insulated from feeling such immense pain and suffering.
Walter Brueggeman submits it is easier for us today to practice charity, when, what Christ actually calls us to is solidarity with the poor and those that hurt. How true I’ve found that to be. When we open ourselves to the hurts of others, we allow ourselves to feeling that hurt ourselves. Just as Christ poured Himself out for us, we pour ourselves for others, taking up their cross just as He, in a sense, took up ours. Our humanity is tied to their humanity. This ubuntu leads us to feel the same pain they feel.
The same pain we've somehow managed to insulate ourselves from.
Here's my annual Advent devotional I wrote for Wesley. Thought I'd share.
Read 2 Samuel 7:11b-16
I think it is safe to say we’ve all experienced the feeling as children. The date is December 21 or 22 and the presents are starting to accumulate under the tree. It’s less than a week till Christmas Day, but the calendar seems to stretch on forever before Christmas Eve, much less the actual day. Some years I could feel my excitement grow so strong that it was almost a pain. Anticipation for a coming promise is a pretty arduous journey. You know it is coming yet it seems so far away.
In the text for today, God makes David a promise. He promises His anointed King to make [him] a house…to raise up offspring after [him]…to establish a kingdom. These are all promises intended to fulfill the covenant made with God’s people long ago. The interesting thing about this passage comes in the first promise: “I will give you rest from your enemies.” Yet, in my translation, the next passage is titled “David’s Wars.” I think this highlights a simple element that we’ve lost in our culture today; an element that we’ve lost in our Church today.
Our microwave society has conditioned us to expect things immediately, to look for things as soon as we ask for them, to never wait on anything. In 2 Samuel, God makes David a series of promises, but still needs David to wait, to endure, to be patient. God needs David to be faithful.
The season of Advent requires us to wait. It, however, is not an idle period. It is a period in which we fervently prepare for that which is promised to us; that pledge is the coming of a King who makes all things new.
The word Paul uses many times for patience is often translated as “long-suffering.” When we come to Christ, we are not automatically equipped to bear the cross we are called to take up. Again, we are called to be patient, called to prepare, called to love.
Advent calls us to a time of preparation for a coming promise. It is such in our day-to-day lives as well. We cannot expect the promise of sanctification, of being made holy and perfect in God’s sight, to come automatically. Christ calls us to a long, sometimes treacherous journey; He also gives us the promise of walking with Him.
In this time of celebration that is Advent, let us rejoice in the promise that God has made us in the coming King. Let us also prepare to receive that which is love, that we may be ultimately perfected in the promise of an almighty God.
I carry an unhealthy disdain of the University of Alabama...every single thing about that crimpsun-and-white wasteland of a campus and the legions of bubbas who have never even set foot on the aforementioned area of real estate.
Some have asked me, “Why get so riled up about something as trivial as football?” The simple answer? It’s not just football. It’s a job, a vocation, an M.O. Whenever a person is either born or moves into the Yellowhammer state, said job is assigned. You pick a side, not because you want to, but because it is foreordained. You are either orange-and-blue or red-and-white. It cannot be both ways. It cannot be “Well, I cheer for Auburn until they play Alabama.” It just cannot. We are Auburn, they are Alabama. With that assignment, comes a specific personality and job description. It is what it is.
Alabama fans are not insufferably arrogant, delusional, and mistakenly prideful because they want to be…nay, they just are. Auburn fans are not eaten up with an inferiority complex because we want to be, but because we are. It is our job as followers of The Creed to loathe all things crimson, and it is their job to act like, no matter how different reality may seem, those poor little aubies who come to beg at the table of the mighty Tahd are just a forlorn little brother who only wants to be like him.
My personal frame of reference comes from many personal experiences, starting all the way in elementary school. To be clear, most people included were born in 1986-7, the middle of Auburn and Pat Dye’s four year streak. We were barely in kindergarten in 1992, but for the sake of maintaining a seeming objectivity, we’ll include it. So, most of my Tide-loving peers knew little if any of the “tradition” that was constantly wagged in my face and others, namely my PIC, Neal. Yes, the Auburn fans were few, but even then, we acted as our job required. The years Alabama won, school on Monday was insufferable. Taunts came from every direction. Jokes were made, laughs were had, as if Auburn had never won a game…ever. The years the Tigers won, Neal and I would walk into school wearing the same proud Auburn grin we always carried around, saying little to nothing about the game, while our peer group from the West carefully explained away what should’ve happened the Saturday before; the mistakes that were made, the calls that were missed, and almost always, the excuses of why “Little Brother” had managed to be blessed with a win. It is the way it is.
I use the phrase “it is what it is” as partial truth and partial jab. The reference obviously comes from 2007 when newly hired part-time-coach and full time savior Nick Saban suspended receiver DJ Hall for the Louisiana-Monroe game, only to be on the brink of losing and “un-suspend” him. (They still lost, by the way). The partial truth comes from the fact that this is the way it will always be. While this particular action speaks rather profoundly to the Tahd’s ultimate corporate personality, I’ll leave it be for now. Auburn and Alabama fans alike will always be the way they are. Years from now, some child, born in the mid-90s, will claim “12 national championships” in the face of an Auburn friend, when really, he doesn’t even know that half of those championships are worth nothing more than some homer sportswriter’s word. That same Auburn fan will turn around to his friend, looking for some kind of affirmation from his friends that yell “ARR TEE ARR WOOOO!” because that is simply the way it is.
Despite the facts that since some long-deceased coach passed Auburn holds a decisive five-game lead, Alabama fans will continue to claim we are their “little brother.” Even though they’ve had almost as many scandals as they have head coaches since the early 90s, they will still feel like they are one of the most respected programs in the country. And though they will still feel like they have a right to win every game and every player they have will be at least All-SEC just because they are tha Unibuhsitee of Alahbumma by GAWD, they will still only be a moderately successful program by national standards.
Twenty years ago this year, a very large wrench was thrown into that personality, though. Most, if not all, Alabama fans swore that Jordan-Hare Stadium would never see the game played on its field. After years of haggling, the moment finally arrived. In what was undoubtedly the biggest Tiger Walk in history, the air that day has been described by many as nothing short of “electric.” As you probably know, the Tigers defeated the previously undefeated Tide, and suddenly, things began to look a lot more even. This event, possibly the biggest and most significant event in Auburn sports history, speaks tremendously to what I’m describing in this post. Alabama, the juggernaut of the 70s, finds it utterly beneath them to come to “that cow college.” To this day, most Turd fans will heartily deny that Auburn is even their biggest rival. Don’t blame them, though. It’s simply who they are. They will always be arrogant, dismissive, and high-and-mighty no matter how good or bad they are. It’s not a crime, it’s just their job.
We might not win on Friday. Hell, we probably won’t. But I will never stop pouring the most burnt orange and the navy-est blue liquid you’ve ever seen when I’m cut. I will never stop getting chills when the first drawn-out intro comes from the beginning of “War Eagle.” I will never stop bending my shaker into an L from effort put into cheering. I will never stop getting misty-eyed when my alma mater is played. I will never cease to be in awe when Spirit or Nova circles the stadium. I will not stop standing for those things listed in the Creed I love. Why? Because I believe in what Auburn is. I believe in those things, and by God, I love Auburn University with everything in me.
So if we win, I will have never been more proud. If we lose, I will never stop being proud of being an Auburn Tiger. Auburn is not and will never be simply about one person, player or coach. We will never worship a coach like some people do. The men that are lucky enough to wear the AU on their helmet stand for something more. They represent a people, not all consumed with simply winning and championships. They are concerned with those things, but they are about being better people for having experienced what Auburn University is. They are better people for wearing the orange and blue. They are a part of something bigger.
Why?
Because it is our job.
“I ain’t smart enough to tell you how I feel about ya. I mean…it’s family, every one of you…you know it. Sure I’d like to be 11-0, ya know, but lemme tell you somethin’. I wouldn’t swap this year for any year that I’ve been at Auburn. I wouldn’t swap it, men. I wouldn’t swap because I’ve watched you struggle and I’ve watched you rassle’ with them angels…and I’ve watched you grow up and become men. I’ve watched you become men.”
In honor of Football Season Eve, I’ve complied a list of my Top Ten games. I was in attendance at all of these, although that had no bearing on the list. Call it coincidence.
10. Ole Miss at Auburn, September 2, 1993 :: 16-12 I’ll start the list off with a little honesty. I don’t remember much about this game. I was a ripe six years old and this was my first game. I do remember thinking how ugly the old powder blue helmets that the Rebs used back in the late 80s/early 90s were. I remember something about Stan White being the quarterback, but other than that, this game bears little significance other than it was my orange and blue baptism, where I was forever changed ($1 to Scott Van Pelt). Gross.
9. Alabama at Auburn, November 18, 1995 :: 31-27 My first Iron Bowl. Like #10, that is the most significant point in this game getting a mention. It was, unlike the ’92 OM game, a very exciting game, with the good guys coming out on top 31-27. This game is mostly known for the “controversial call” in the endzone on 4th down in which Freddie Kitchens threw the ball a little too wide for some dude, ending the Tahd’s chances in that contest. What stands out to me most from this game is not so much the football, but rather this really obnoxious Alabama fan that sat behind us with his puffy red jacket and huge honkin’ nose. I mean that thing was big. He yelled, cursed, grumbled and did all the annoying things that that token visiting fan does that somehow gets a ticket in your section. He especially said things that most wouldn’t say when you’re sitting right behind an 8 year old, but whatever; I didn’t care. As the famous last play came to pass, he celebrated wildly because the play was below us and we couldn’t see the sideline. As the official ran in to make the incomplete call, my dad came the closest I’d ever seen him come, or have ever seen him come to this day, of taunting another fan, when he turned around to the guy, smiled, and slowly shook his head and said, “nope.” After he did this, he gave me a huge high five and picked me up with one arm, pumping the other as we both wildly did a bit of celebrating of our own. It marked the beginning, in my mind at least, of the special football relationship we carry to this day.
8. Auburn at Alabama, November 22, 2004 :: 21-13 During the first half, the undefeated Tigers farted around, allowing the Tahd to get up 6-0 at halftime. The second half was much different with Campbell, Brown and Williams waking up and the clearly dominating team cruising to a relatively easy win. This is to take nothing away from Alabama’s effort in the game, because they played one of the better games of their seasons, but c’mon. Jason Campbell? Ronnie Brown? Carnell Williams? It should’ve been over by the first TV timeout. This is also a classic example of that maddening, awful, disheartening contraption we Auburn fans came to know so fondly as “The Tubershell.” After coming off an impressive 18-point drubbing of a top 10 Georgia team, everyone knew we had to kill Alabama to have a chance in jumping Oklahoma. (Editor’s Note: In case you care, my children will be raised to hate the University of Oklahoma because of this season. What a bunch of posers. Sheesh.) So what happens? We come out, put on a show in the third quarter, the run the ball up the middle series after series to run out the clock, changing what would’ve been a seemingly convincing 21-6 win into giving field position and allowing them to score to make it a seeming nail-biting 21-13 win. Stupid. It was my first real road game with Pops, though, which makes it pretty memorable (sorry Vandy, you just don’t count); that, and capping off an undefeated regular season.
7. Alabama at Auburn, November 18, 1997 :: 18-17 My 2nd Iron Bowl. What was going to be a family affair turned into another JC-Pops expedition when Mitch and Moms neither felt particularly well enough to battle the bitter cold. It was again, a game with a heavy favorite in the Tigers and a struggling Tide, their first year in the Clappy era. The good guys had a chance to clinch a West division title and a trip to Atlanta with a win, so hopes were high. The Tide, though, fought hard and was in perfect position to run out the clock with a 17-15 lead and just over a minute left when possibly the dumbest play call in history occurred. Run twice and the game’s over. Instead, that now-famous swing pass to Ed Scissum on the left happened and the rest is history. The fumble is forced and recovered by the Tigers, the ball is driven down the field, and Jaret Holmes splits the uprights for a dramatic 18-17 win. It was an exciting affair with a similar celebration to the ’95 game.
6. Auburn at Tennessee, December 4, 2004 :: 38-28 This game represented my second SEC championship experience, both times with the Vols as the opponent. The first came in ’97 when Peyton Manning decided to wake up in the second half, edging the Tigers out by a point in the end. After laying the wood to UT in Neyland earlier in the season, we all felt pretty good about our chances in the Dome. After showing the country in the first half that we were, in deed, deserving of a title shot, our old friend the Tubershell reared its ugly head in the second half and allowed the Vols back in the game. After realizing what was happening, the boys woke back up and put to rest any doubt that remained and secured the first SEC title of my recollection. It was a jubilant night.
I realize this wasn't the same game, but poor Jason Allen. It's just too sweet not to reference.
5. Georgia at Auburn, November 12, 2004 :: 24-6 Coming into this game, the Tigers hadn’t been played closely since the nailbiter in September against LSU. A top-10 matchup brought the three dweebs from Gameday as well as all eyes from across the nation to see if AU was for real. In what can be titled as nothing less than a good, old-fashioned beatdown, Campbell, Brown, Williams and Co. pulled out all the stops to hang 24 on a vaunted Bulldog defense. The defense didn’t disappoint, either, with Junior Rosegreen delivering the famous blow in the third quarter that left UGA receiver Reggie Brown motionless on his face, which come to be known simply as “The Hit.” As Brown was being attended to, the Auburn student section did something I won’t soon forget. Chanting “Reggie” in unison showed the class and integrity that embodies so much of what we are about.
4. Alabama at Auburn, November 19, 2005 :: 28-18 I struggled to not put this one higher on the list, but for some reason, it wound up at No. 4. The first quarter was what can only be described as pure bliss. The Tahd was 10-1, had been proclaimed “back” and adorned the cover of SI. Brodie Croyle was ascending to the throne to take his rightful place at the Bahr’s right hand, opposite Joe “I Wanna Kiss You” Namath. Two sacks in three plays on the first drive had the crowd stirred up in a blood-thirsty frenzy, along with a few impressive drives by the Tiger offense. We found ourselves up 3 scores before the deer in the headlights look could even descend on Shula’s face…and that is saying something. The reason this game falls on the list is for the infamous Tubershell. This game, coming the year after the Biggest Screwjob in BCS History, had a chance to put some pressure on the throat that our orange and blue boot was currently on. The live-to-punt philosophy prevailed, though, turning what could’ve been a real mudhole into a rather underwhelming ten point win. I will never forget, however, Brodie curled up in a ball as McClover stood over him. What a sight. The Predator
3. LSU at Auburn, September 18, 2004 :: 10-9 The true turning point for the 2004 team. It was an incredibly hard fought game, all the way to the end. Not much is remembered by anybody before the last AU drive. The now famous fourth-and-long can be argued to be the turning point in Jason Campbell’s career as well. With the game hanging on this play, JC stood in the pocket, took a hit from the oncoming defender, and delivered a strike to Courtney Taylor just over the first down line. A few plays later, the same connection was made in the back of the endzone to take the lead for good. As soon as the ball hit the 86 on Taylor’s jersey, an eruption happened that is only surpassed by a moment in the number one game on this list.
2. Auburn at Florida, September 29, 2007 :: 23-20 This game for me is remembered not only for the game, but the whole trip as a whole. I secured an extra ticket from Tiger Hosts for Pops, so after we met in Auburn, we headed towards Gainesville. Saturday morning, the IHOP Breakfast Sampler was number one on the list. UA-FSU was happening in Jacksonville, so there was plenty of representation on both sides. An aside: (bammers in the booth behind us) The waitress asks us, “Which game are y’all going to?” to which Pops replies, “Which other game? The Auburn game of course! Oh yeah, I forgot…isn’t there a high school game in Jacksonville?” The bammers, waitress and Pops and I all shared a good-natured laugh, and returned to our grease-soaked sausage. We met up with some other TTHs at their tailgate and all walked around Jortville together. Some guys had enjoyed more liquid encouragement than others, making for one of the funniest walks I’ve ever taken. Example of such: “Hey that’s a nice scooter! Where’d you get that scooter? Well, if you weren’t a Florida fan, you’d probably be straight.” Hilarious.
The game was one of the most exciting games I’ve ever been to, culminating with the two game-winning kicks by true freshman Wes Byrum. The most memorable moment of perhaps my football-related stories came on those kicks, as well. As Wes trotted out on the field, the entire Auburn section found itself with arms locked together in one huddled mass, to the dismay to the police officers who patrolled the section all night telling us to get off the bleachers. As Wes nailed the first, we all went nuts, then became subdued again when we found out timeout had been called. So we linked up again. It was one of those moments where you feel like something bigger is going on…where community transcends football, where you get a real sense of what the Auburn family is all about. Holding each other up, praying together, celebrating together. It was surreal.
The next morning we returned to the same IHOP that held the same Breakfast Sampler, along with several hearty War Eagles, as well as your fair share of dejected bammers. We ate our breakfast in relative silence, letting our orange and blue do the talking.
1. Florida at Auburn, October 17, 2006 :: 27-17 Florida came into this game ranked number 2 in the country, with Chris Leak and Tim Tebow putting up rather impressive numbers. The crowd was crazy at the beginning, but was quickly taken out of it by the Tigers’ inefficiency in scoring points and at being able to stop Leak, Tebow and Co. Going into halftime down 17-11, having scored only field goals and a safety, I felt as if it was only a matter of time before our defense wore down and the Gators blew it wide open. Tuberville, in the locker room, had a different idea. In the third quarter, the defense came alive, barely giving Leak room to breathe. On a particular third down, Leak stood in the pocket and then scrambled left, but was run down by Quentin Groves. As he hit the ground the crowd became louder than I had ever heard in almost 14 years of being in that stadium. Then, as the Gators were backed up in their territory, it happened. Snap, fumble, step, dive, block, scoop, flip. The Pontiac Game Changing Performance winning play saw a blocked punt by Tristan Davis and Jerraud Powers block the fumbled snap and attempted kick and Tre Smith scooped it up and flipped into the endzone, creating such noise that I thought the walls in the stadium would crumble. To this day, I’ve never been in an environment louder than that moment.
After a field goal from the Tigers, the Gators had one chance left, but a botched lateral led to the fumble that led to the final touchdown of the night. It. Was. Wild.
