football - grace grits and gardening

the lesson behind Baylor’s meltdown

January 2, 2015 By Talya Tate Boerner

There’s a lesson behind Baylor’s Cotton Bowl meltdown.

I remember the 1980s when a one touchdown loss was reason to celebrate. Baylor was that team everyone played for homecoming. A surefire win. The best thing about game day was Poppa Rolla’s Pizza. Football was ugly. The #SicSomeonePlease days.

And then Art Briles turned everything around. He was Baylor’s new miracle on the Brazos. RGIII. A beautiful stadium.

I pinch myself during every game because I remember the past. Remembering keeps me grounded.

A little gratitude is never bad. Being gracious is a good thing. Even in football.

Becoming arrogant and whiney and too-big-for-your-britches rarely turns out positive. Even in football.

Yes, overall Baylor had a great season. Ranked 5th in the nation. Invited to the Cotton Bowl. Everything was as golden as those blinding Baylor helmets right until Karma became the twelfth man.

I sure could have used a Poppa Rolla’s pizza yesterday.

Sooner or later in life, we all take our own turn being in the position we once had someone else in. (Author, Ashly Lorenzana)

#AlwaysABaylorBear,

Grace Grits and Gardening

Farm. Food. Garden. Life.

[tweetthis]Karma became Baylor’s twelfth man. @BUFootball [/tweetthis]

P.S.

And now I cheer Go Ducks!

with my favorite Duck fan.

Alabama – Auburn. The dark side of defeat.

December 3, 2013 By Talya Tate Boerner

Have we truly reached the point where society values the BCS bowl race over the human race? Both can be rather barbaric, but death threats to the Alabama kicker? One fan murders another after the game because she wasn’t upset enough over the loss?

I’m as passionate as the next about college football. My favorite show (after Breaking Bad) is ESPN SportCenter.

But folks, it’s only a game—not to be confused with a video game… The game of life comes with a set of social, moral rules that apparently need to be re-played and re-learned. Losses happen.They just do.

Without losses, wins wouldn’t taste half as sweet. This much I know as a Baylor Bear fan.

We’ve reached a new high low. Truly the dark side of defeat.

talya

Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.

“How dreadful…to be caught up in a game and have no idea of the rules.” – Caroline Stevermer

Bear Down Baylor

November 23, 2013 By Talya Tate Boerner

The year I graduated from high school, Mike Singletary led Baylor to the Cotton Bowl. I took that as a good sign.

Mike Singletary

When Harry and Nancy Wooten invited me to Waco to visit their son (my boyfriend), I watched the impressive homecoming bonfire and knew it was the college for me. Plus Grant Teaff’s worm story intrigued me beyond anything I had ever heard.

At Christmas break, I vacated my Arkansas State dorm room, loaded up my yellow corvette and headed west. Although things didn’t work out with the boyfriend, I am forever grateful he connected me to Baylor.

Pat Neff

Today I should be Christmas shopping. Or brining a turkey. Or something. But I cannot do or plan one single productive thing until Baylor beats OSU tonight. (I did dig out my gold pom-pom and Baylor face tattoos, so that’s something.)

Until recently, Baylor fans have endured less than stellar seasons. We were the butt of every Southwest Conference joke, even worse than the time-worn Aggie cracks. Schools vied to play us for homecoming game. Yet still we cheered and proudly yelled h-e-e-e-e-y sic ’em bears! at every opportunity.

My sister and me with our 1980-something hair. Ready for game day!

I graduated and moved to Dallas.

I worked in banking.

I got married, had two kids, divorced, worked even more, remarried…

Life flew by. Friday nights were spent at high school games. We made occasional road trips to Waco for Baylor games.

I learned to be satisfied if the bears simply showed up and didn’t embarrass me. We only lost by ten points? That’s a win in my book, I’d say…Coping skills—something learned at Baylor right along with macroeconomic theory and the Cotton-Eyed Joe. We limped along hoping for a football team while supporting the school’s other more successful programs…olympic track athletes…amazing basketball teams…

Yet still I waited for football.

I moved my kids into their own dorms, not Baylor, but I was okay with that. Baylor was my special place. Each time I drove to Austin, I stopped at the Bear Pit to chat with the mascots. Will this be our year? Usually the bears were hiding…

Still waiting and aging and waiting and aging…

Then quietly and a bit under the radar, Art Briles breathed life into the program. Robert Griffin III was unstoppable. We began to remember what honest-to-goodness fun felt like, because we’d forgotten, or maybe we never knew.