When I spoke about my Gamecockian background, it was more like a brief overview of the divide between USC and Clemson. But, it's not so simple...there's more to know about the Garnet and Black. A few weeks or so ago, I wrote a couple posts about some dark secrets of South Carolina. Well, there's another, and it's one I'm reluctant to discuss, but seeing as this is a blog to let my kids know about their lives, friends, and family, it would be remiss of me not to be totally forthcoming about the Cocks.
Here's the deal. The Gamecocks don't have the best history. Some might say the USC football team has the worst luck ever. Seriously... if a storm was passing through and there were lightening rods all around, and our team was standing in a rubber house, somehow everyone inside the rubber abode would be struck by lightening. To be sure, our bad fortune has been dubbed the Chicken Curse. Truth be told, we don't have the best overall record. Not by a long shot. We are prone to choking (remember that Kentucky game last year). And, for some reason, we just cannot seem to land ourselves a consistently solid quarterback (like right now, we don't know which version of Garcia will show up to games: Stephen or Jerry).
So, here's another deal. This year we have the makings of a good team. No, a great team...well, as long as Stephen makes his appearance at each game. We've got Alshon Jeffrey, Marcus Lattimore, Ace Sanders, Stephon Gilmore, Jadeveon Clowney. We've got game, people. Game. The question is, do we have the chickens that go with the curse, or do we have the cocks that bring the game? Looking at the statistics and logical probabilities behind our stacked team, one would think that the odds are in our favor, but the fact remains that we have an innate ability to make big mistakes and put ourselves in a downward spiral of out of control disappointment.
For me, this uncertainty brings great stress and panic. Saturdays mark an end to any finger nail length that I may have been going for. I can't just sit still and watch the game on television, no matter how many alcoholic beverages I may consume. For real... I can't watch the game in a normal way. To get through these events, I have several strategies. My favorite is where I stand half in the kitchen, half in the living room, peeking around the corner of the door frame with my fingers over my eyes so that I can barely see the screen until a play is over. Another is to clean everything in the house so that I constantly move past the television to another part of the house, stopping briefly to see what's going on. If I hear shouts of joy, I rush to check out what's happening. If I hear sounds of sadness, I assume the worst and keep cleaning. If the Gamecocks score or do something good, I then have to make a decision if something I did or didn't do could have affected the event (I've got a mean case of superstition), so I busy myself trying to determine how what I do can make sure that good stuff continues to happen on the field. Sometimes, I can get around this nonsense by pausing the game for a good 15 minutes. I am well aware of how crazy this sounds, but I'm also well aware that most of what I do is a little bit off.
And, so, another season has begun. That old Chicken Curse reared its ugly head for the first quarter of our game against East Carolina University on Saturday...a game that should have been an easy win, but quickly turned quite ugly. Was I surprised? Were any of us Gamecock fans surprised? Absolutely not. Were we relieved when we pulled out a win? Ummmm. Yeah. But, the game was a reminder that we can be taken out by a high school football team just as easily as we can beat the number one team in the country. I just hope and pray that we actually get a chance to prove that stupid Chicken Curse wrong once and for all. Come on, fellas, show us what you got, because you sure have enough of it to win the whole thing.
Here's the deal. The Gamecocks don't have the best history. Some might say the USC football team has the worst luck ever. Seriously... if a storm was passing through and there were lightening rods all around, and our team was standing in a rubber house, somehow everyone inside the rubber abode would be struck by lightening. To be sure, our bad fortune has been dubbed the Chicken Curse. Truth be told, we don't have the best overall record. Not by a long shot. We are prone to choking (remember that Kentucky game last year). And, for some reason, we just cannot seem to land ourselves a consistently solid quarterback (like right now, we don't know which version of Garcia will show up to games: Stephen or Jerry).
So, here's another deal. This year we have the makings of a good team. No, a great team...well, as long as Stephen makes his appearance at each game. We've got Alshon Jeffrey, Marcus Lattimore, Ace Sanders, Stephon Gilmore, Jadeveon Clowney. We've got game, people. Game. The question is, do we have the chickens that go with the curse, or do we have the cocks that bring the game? Looking at the statistics and logical probabilities behind our stacked team, one would think that the odds are in our favor, but the fact remains that we have an innate ability to make big mistakes and put ourselves in a downward spiral of out of control disappointment.
For me, this uncertainty brings great stress and panic. Saturdays mark an end to any finger nail length that I may have been going for. I can't just sit still and watch the game on television, no matter how many alcoholic beverages I may consume. For real... I can't watch the game in a normal way. To get through these events, I have several strategies. My favorite is where I stand half in the kitchen, half in the living room, peeking around the corner of the door frame with my fingers over my eyes so that I can barely see the screen until a play is over. Another is to clean everything in the house so that I constantly move past the television to another part of the house, stopping briefly to see what's going on. If I hear shouts of joy, I rush to check out what's happening. If I hear sounds of sadness, I assume the worst and keep cleaning. If the Gamecocks score or do something good, I then have to make a decision if something I did or didn't do could have affected the event (I've got a mean case of superstition), so I busy myself trying to determine how what I do can make sure that good stuff continues to happen on the field. Sometimes, I can get around this nonsense by pausing the game for a good 15 minutes. I am well aware of how crazy this sounds, but I'm also well aware that most of what I do is a little bit off.
And, so, another season has begun. That old Chicken Curse reared its ugly head for the first quarter of our game against East Carolina University on Saturday...a game that should have been an easy win, but quickly turned quite ugly. Was I surprised? Were any of us Gamecock fans surprised? Absolutely not. Were we relieved when we pulled out a win? Ummmm. Yeah. But, the game was a reminder that we can be taken out by a high school football team just as easily as we can beat the number one team in the country. I just hope and pray that we actually get a chance to prove that stupid Chicken Curse wrong once and for all. Come on, fellas, show us what you got, because you sure have enough of it to win the whole thing.
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