Mississippi State Football, Clinical Depression, and You: a cerebral analysis of the effects of losing to Vandy on the human psyche
this isn't finished yet...
Vanderbilt Commodores Official Site for Vanderbilt Athletics
The 5 stages of severe grief.
Stage 1: Denial. We beat Tulane. We are overjoyed. Croom hung the moon. We're going to a bowl game. We won't win every game, but we'll compete. We're back on track. The bulldog train is leaving the station. Babies all over Mississippi are being named Sylvester and Omarr. Can't work this week, too excited. Take the week off and camp out at Scott Field. This is going to be one special season. Arrested on misdemeanor trespassing charge by campus police. Charge is dropped given extenuating circumstances (it's not every decade that State has a winning record).
Stage 2: Anger. We are throttled by Auby. They attempt to run up the score. Tommy Tubberville proves he's still the antichrist. Things are bad in the Maroon Nation, but at least we have a target for our anger: TT. He is anathema to us. Mail carriers go on strike to protest the amount of hate mail and death threats being sent on the Starkville to Auburn route. Call in sick to work so I can watch previous games against Tubby. Video on a loop showing Tubby refusing to shake Jackie's hand, Tubby and his Umissed players smoking cigars on Scott field, Tubby up 30+ points and going for 2, Tubby passing the ball up 43-0 with 2 minutes to go, Tubby calling us a 'B' team.
Stage 3: Bargaining. Please God, let us beat Maine. I will never miss church again. I'll visit that old folks' home every day for a month. I'll quit drinking, smoking, cussing, gambling, whatever. Just let us beat Maine (and maybe cover the spread). Pulling out all the mojo in hopes of a victory. Don't show up for work so I can say 77 rosaries and a novena each day leading up to the game. Wearing the lucky socks, the undefeated boxers, the Paul Lacoste autographed ball cap (signed on the field after beating Bama), the 'Maroon is the only color that matters' we beat Tulane that day shirt. But playing it cool so no one knows I'm using up all this luck on MAINE!
We lose. Good news is I can still drink, smoke, cuss, gamble. Bad news is all that lucky gear is now tainted. Give the clothes to a less-fortunate family in Punta Gordo, Florida. They are promptly visited by 3 hurricanes in 3 weeks. They lose their house to Charles, their cars to Jeanne, but luckily the family makes it through alive. That is until their dog was hit by a FEMA truck during rescue efforts. Must've been those clothes. OK, God, if we can just beat ULBR, I'll never put any trust in 'lucky clothes' or silly superstitions again. And after that one little game, I promise not to pray for anything as silly as football anymore.
Stage 4: Depression. Loss to ULBR. Not just a loss, but 51-0. Fifty freaking one to nothing. LI ad nihil. Quince uno a cero. Two quarters and a penny to naught.
Represented in dots, the score would look like this:
ULBR: ...................................................
State: (note the disturbing lack of dots in this area)
Not unexpected, but no less painful. Contemplating suicide, or at least changing teams. Have burned my diplomas. Started a website: firecroom.com. Got fired from my job. Wife left me. Took the kids.
Stage 5: Acceptance. Nothing makes it real like losing to Vandy. By 18.
But there's hope. Understanding is setting in that this is all just a phase. A natural cycle. Like a forest fire. Just making way for new growth. Sort of regretting burning the diplomas, but not as much as I'm regretting sending the Antrhax to TT. Facing federal charges on that little misunderstanding, may miss the rest of the season. Hope to be paroled by next season (I hear we're going to be really good. We've got this great recruit our of Pelahatchie who's supposed to be the next coming of John Bond). Talked to that family in Florida. Advised them to burn the 'lucky' clothes. They did, then were selected for 'Extreme Makeover: Home Edition' the next day. Got a new job making license plates. Pays in cigarettes. I'm trading them for cash so I can help in the recruiting effort. There's a couple of guys here in the hoosegow who can play some ball. I think they were on Jackie's short list of recruits last year.
Vanderbilt Commodores Official Site for Vanderbilt Athletics
The 5 stages of severe grief.
Stage 1: Denial. We beat Tulane. We are overjoyed. Croom hung the moon. We're going to a bowl game. We won't win every game, but we'll compete. We're back on track. The bulldog train is leaving the station. Babies all over Mississippi are being named Sylvester and Omarr. Can't work this week, too excited. Take the week off and camp out at Scott Field. This is going to be one special season. Arrested on misdemeanor trespassing charge by campus police. Charge is dropped given extenuating circumstances (it's not every decade that State has a winning record).
Stage 2: Anger. We are throttled by Auby. They attempt to run up the score. Tommy Tubberville proves he's still the antichrist. Things are bad in the Maroon Nation, but at least we have a target for our anger: TT. He is anathema to us. Mail carriers go on strike to protest the amount of hate mail and death threats being sent on the Starkville to Auburn route. Call in sick to work so I can watch previous games against Tubby. Video on a loop showing Tubby refusing to shake Jackie's hand, Tubby and his Umissed players smoking cigars on Scott field, Tubby up 30+ points and going for 2, Tubby passing the ball up 43-0 with 2 minutes to go, Tubby calling us a 'B' team.
Stage 3: Bargaining. Please God, let us beat Maine. I will never miss church again. I'll visit that old folks' home every day for a month. I'll quit drinking, smoking, cussing, gambling, whatever. Just let us beat Maine (and maybe cover the spread). Pulling out all the mojo in hopes of a victory. Don't show up for work so I can say 77 rosaries and a novena each day leading up to the game. Wearing the lucky socks, the undefeated boxers, the Paul Lacoste autographed ball cap (signed on the field after beating Bama), the 'Maroon is the only color that matters' we beat Tulane that day shirt. But playing it cool so no one knows I'm using up all this luck on MAINE!
We lose. Good news is I can still drink, smoke, cuss, gamble. Bad news is all that lucky gear is now tainted. Give the clothes to a less-fortunate family in Punta Gordo, Florida. They are promptly visited by 3 hurricanes in 3 weeks. They lose their house to Charles, their cars to Jeanne, but luckily the family makes it through alive. That is until their dog was hit by a FEMA truck during rescue efforts. Must've been those clothes. OK, God, if we can just beat ULBR, I'll never put any trust in 'lucky clothes' or silly superstitions again. And after that one little game, I promise not to pray for anything as silly as football anymore.
Stage 4: Depression. Loss to ULBR. Not just a loss, but 51-0. Fifty freaking one to nothing. LI ad nihil. Quince uno a cero. Two quarters and a penny to naught.
Represented in dots, the score would look like this:
ULBR: ...................................................
State: (note the disturbing lack of dots in this area)
Not unexpected, but no less painful. Contemplating suicide, or at least changing teams. Have burned my diplomas. Started a website: firecroom.com. Got fired from my job. Wife left me. Took the kids.
Stage 5: Acceptance. Nothing makes it real like losing to Vandy. By 18.
But there's hope. Understanding is setting in that this is all just a phase. A natural cycle. Like a forest fire. Just making way for new growth. Sort of regretting burning the diplomas, but not as much as I'm regretting sending the Antrhax to TT. Facing federal charges on that little misunderstanding, may miss the rest of the season. Hope to be paroled by next season (I hear we're going to be really good. We've got this great recruit our of Pelahatchie who's supposed to be the next coming of John Bond). Talked to that family in Florida. Advised them to burn the 'lucky' clothes. They did, then were selected for 'Extreme Makeover: Home Edition' the next day. Got a new job making license plates. Pays in cigarettes. I'm trading them for cash so I can help in the recruiting effort. There's a couple of guys here in the hoosegow who can play some ball. I think they were on Jackie's short list of recruits last year.
posted by CagerMania at 8:22 AM
1 Comments:
Oh Christ. You know the laugh i have? Yeah try stiffling (sp?) that sucker at work. It hurts. Tears man, tears rolling down my face. That was bloody funny.
Post a Comment
<< Home