Tag Archives: Tristan Davis

Loveliest Village de la Llano Estacado

It’s a big deal for me. Got a real job. Moving to Texas. West Texas. Intense.

Just as intense is what I’m having to sacrifice for that job. Not only my home, my Auburn throne, but media credentials. A press pass. Every Auburn home game. Don’t ask how. True story. Finally happened. In the box. Free food. Scarbinsky. Rubbing elbows. High fives with Housel. On the sidelines. Sweaty stares from Yoxall.

In fact, I could be at Media Days right now if I wanted, name tag and everything, Diet Cokes, blogging between-the-line prognostications of what shall unfold (I’m telling you, God love Burns, God love Todd, Tristan, Tray, Coleman, Ziemba, Byrum, Tate, Lester, God love’em all — but the secret, season-hinging ninja of 2008 will be Mario Fannin, just watch, just feel, he can’t run up the middle much because of the shoulders, but spread him out and feed him a mushroom), and blogging about all the bloggers and then heading over to Diamond Jims, that place still there?

But just as I achieve almost-tucked-in respectability, just as I catch my breath, just as I right myself in order to take in the finish-line view atop this Everest of (detrimental? genius?) Auburn obsession, the Lord, with a gust of His mighty wind, whisks me to the treeless board game of Red Raider land.

“mike leach. mike leeeeeeeeeachhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. the bell ringer. pirates. sharks. mike leach.”

ESPN’s Mack Schlabach actually predicted T. Tech to meet in the Sugar Bowl, which will be hard because we’ll be in the Orange Bowl. We’ll still beat them though.

This will be a strange, new world for me, not just geographically, but in the heart. Discounting away games, I’ve never been a fan on foreign shores, I’ve never lived more than two hours away from the front (what’s it like, y’all?). I’ve been in echo distance of Jordan-Hare for the past 11 years of my life — I basically walk to the games from my house — and soon it’ll be more than 1,000 miles, a fact which will be rendered utterly, utterly poignant by season’s end, as I’m sure we’ll win it all (four years from ’04, feels right).

Hopefully, The War Eagle Reader can keep things happening. Maybe my new circumstances will give birth to an actual, sustainable theme to this blog; let’s not kid ourselves, it’s been a schizoid first year… if I had it to do over again, I’d really try to craft my natural, this-guy’s-got-problems-but-I-like-it embed persona, the place you’d come not for the stats and stuff, but the Tristan Davis sightings, the smells of Haley Center, the tailgate romance, the Kroger aisle electricity, the 30 mph twilight Bragg Ave. boob flashings from the back of pickups after we’ve beaten LSU. Looking back, that kinda seems like what I was going for in my bizarre first real, real post, after last year’s Kansas State game:

The frat houses and dorms soak not with the anticipated musk of conquest, but rather the quiet mocha of relief. The kids wake up with tender smiles and cuddle. Swig not the Budweiser dregs for breakfast this Sunday, my friends, rather brunch together with wholesome grains and warm cheeses, share with one another and laugh nervously, but proudly, and press on in the faith, for next week will likely be more of the same, and we need our strength. We need each other.

Yes, thank you, Lord, for Auburn football.

Maybe J.M. will continue to rock the Toomer’s Rumors and Boomers category the way it was supposed to be rocked, and rock other things… maybe I’ll still post random pictures from Auburn’s 1970s… maybe I can finally convince Chris Shelling Jr. to recap the games, recap them with purity and wisdom, all the way from the Empire of the Sun. Maybe I can monetize this sucker and buy my family back to God’s country. I don’t see why it all can’t happen — such is the power and beauty of the internet: Toomer’s Corner web cams, the blAUgosphere, 2008.

But it could stop, I guess. Schedules and stuff. We’ll see what happens. Until then, War Eagle, War Eagle forever.

Wait, I almost forgot. There is the matter of The Pants. Who is going to take up the slacks, as it were, in my stead? Jerry, if you’re still coming down, it might totally have to be you – that would totally prove the sorta southern dedication to the game you’ve been claiming to those Michigan “football” fan friends of yours.

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Toomer’s Rumors and Boomers – 3.17.08

It’s a little slow right now. Spring Break. You can actually drive around town. You can get some stuff done.


I honestly can’t remember where I got this picture, but it’s great. If you know whose it is, or if it’s yours, let me know and I’ll give full credit.

*** I slammed on the brakes in front of Anders Friday to let Tristan Davis cross the street. I rolled the passenger-side window down and when he stepped up on the campus-side curb I yelled “touchdown!” Alright, that I made up, but he did give me the “thank you” nod and we totally did “War Eagle” each other with our eyes. He seems to be walking fine. Also, I swear I saw the Snorg girl or someone very much like the Snorg girl at Mike and Ed’s yesterday.

*** Polls are closed on the Wii cover vote. J.M. pointed out that now, when you go to the page, and start through the motions, it lists the “current standings” and has Aubie 4th out of 10. But since the winner won’t be announced until Tuesday, the 18th, it makes me wonder whether the online vote is simply one component factoring into their decision. It’s either that, or they found some hanging chads and are counting votes by hand.

*** I’m working on a new idea for a series, nothing too special, but hopefully fun.

In the meantime, enjoy this bizarre but AUsome new rap…

R33se he ain’t, but War Eagle.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day.

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Toomer’s Rumors and Boomers – 2.28.08

*** Auburn Fight Song too holy for video games: According to Harris Sewell Worley, the reason Auburn’s fight song is not heard in the NCAA Football franchise video games is because his great grandmother, who owns partial rights, deems the medium unworthy of it’s greatness (Worley’s grandfather, Roy B. Sewell, Auburn man extraordinaire, commissioned the song back in the ’50s. He was an awesome guy.) Hell yeah it is! Let other schools pimp their heritage if they want, I’m glad we’re keeping it real. War Eagle, Mrs. Sewell, fight the power. And domo arigoto, you EA Sports soul suckers – Aubie might be on the cover, but the fight song stays in our hearts.

My favorite line: “… and we all look forward to… singin’ the fight song next season.”

Real quick – I totally dig the song — the tune, the lyrics — but click here and scroll to the bottom to check out the scalding review, upon its debut, by the Montgomery Advertiser, which is awesome just for revealing the esteem in which they hold “one of the supreme bellows of our time.”

*** Two days ago, I spent the afternoon in the parking lot of Montgomery’s sole (from what I can tell) Panera Bread. I could not connect to their WiFi for some reason. So I read a bit and listened to Finebaum, which came on only a few minutes after Nick Saban, in a press conference, addressed, among other things, questions about whether his football teams at Alabama can ever be more than goon squads. Of course, Finebaum played clips, and the good thing is, he played them early in the show and often. Go here and listen. No really, just listen, just for a little bit, even just to the first one (but if you listen to the whole thing, you’ll get to the Tuscaloosa-cops-are-all Auburn-fans theory). Because just when you think that the man is going to get it together, step up, do something decent, act in his self-interest by playing the game and saying the things that need to be said and act like a human being… just when you think the ride is about to over, Saban busts up into a press conference and shoots up the joint. I knew Saban would be the kinda person we should all want at the helm over there, but… and I feel… strange… in saying this, but as an Auburn fan, even I am beginning to feel bad, genuinely bad for the guy. Not for the treatment he receives — it’s just that he, Nick Saban, seems so completely incapable to handle his current situation in life. That is sad to watch or listen to.

“Buried the Myth…”

Check out the latest from Kevin Scarbinsky, who only the day before gave his column to Saban for him to look tough but compassionate… lets just say I doubt Kevin will be getting any more exclusives for a while…

*** This is why we dig Phillip Marshall. Like the Auburner, I’m impressed with Tony Franklin’s candor in discussing Chris Todd’s struggles to regain form, and the consequent implications that, despite appearances and fan chatter, Franklin’s preexisting relationship with Todd will not determine who our starting quarterback will be. I didn’t want to mention it at the time, as I know little about the mechanics of such things beyond a fan’s immediate impressions (and also because I’d heard somewhere that out of the four guys out there he had graded the highest in some category), but Todd, to me, definitely looked hesitant on the first day of practice, and threw the ball very softly. If he threw better as an 8th grader than he does now, yeah, than there’s definitely a problem. But then again, if he was that good as an 8th grader, I hope there’s a quick fix to all this.

I’m also impressed with the urgent need to score Tristan Davis some freaking steel toe cleats. Or Lord, have the next person to step on his toe runnin’ laps or something. I mean, I’d care no matter what, but I was there for that first touchdown, I saw it in person, or I tried to see it. I don’t remember who it was, I don’t remember when, all I remember is the flash. I can’t get it out of my mind. Didn’t he have like, an 80 yard per carry average for a few weeks?

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