My advice is to never act on my predictions. Mock them, brush them off, laugh at them, but do not act on them, put no money up. The Hogs were overwhelmed by the Aggies, a blowout, a mismatch, a good ole hog killing in College Station. Lots of loud Bon Jovi and lights, lots of people familiar with each other, lots of boots. Thinking back, it's the most people I've ever been around, almost 108,000; I was out of my element.
Kyle Field seemed like a massive baby pen for the 12th Man, Woman, and Child. This was my true first impression of the architecture--no bullshit flattery, no respecting of their chants and trivial traditions, none of their shitty beer, this is Burnt Aggie Gonzo with the lowdown on the downlow. Maroon is the shade of maroon in the middle of it all. Dr. Capone rooted just enough to maintain his campus standing, but he was more techy, more red and black, more western; he bled for the Red Raiders in the 80s and the 90s jumping like a jackrabbit jumps. However, he accepted this gawdy spectacle way back, go along, go along, "Aggie First Down!", rah, rah, boom, bah, bam.
Sixth row, 30 yard line seats had me up tight on the action and right behind the Arkansas bench. They were scrawny, mopey, and bland. Coach Silverfield has his work cut out for him, he sounded baffled and discouraged and confused at his post game press conference. Start with a Chinese buffet, I say, pig out all afternoon, get fatter as soon as possible. Nice game from the Aggie QB, played like a poor 12th Man's Vince Young, he could potentially take them to the Alamo Bowl.
