Hello all. This should appropriately sum it up, if you don’t desire to read further.
Michael (the Senator) was only in his sixties when he departed. I’m currently 52, and having to reflect on my life choices. As you all know, I’m going through a divorce.
Last weekend, I had the kids, per the temporary custodial agreement. I never thought I’d have to have an agreement to see the people that mean the most to me, and that I created.
As Vonnegut, my favorite author said, “so it goes”.
Life isn’t easy, or fair. If you’d told me I’d be in this position when I was ten years younger, I’d have thought you crazy. I’m solid. I’m a respected member of the community. A good husband, good dad.
In the span of time from last season’s Tech game until now I’ve been posting as a prisoner of my own choices. Standing idle and alone while dealing with a divorce.
It’s a strange place, defending what you love. Until November of last year, I enjoyed defending college football, and, more specifically, Georgia football.
To be honest, though, I watched a grand total of three minutes of football last weekend. It’s just not that important. It was all Georgia, but it didn’t matter. The girls wanted to watch Katseye or something else, I don’t remember, but it didn’t matter.
I had dreams of taking them all to a Georgia game. I can’t afford it, in good time or not. We named our youngest as we watched Sony Michel walk in a touchdown in Pasadena. She’s Georgia. She’s amazing, she’s strong, and she’s full of a complete vernacular of profanity that only a kid named Georgia could have. Maybe you could say she’s cursed with that name. But truth be known, she’s never seen Georgia lose to Tech, and I’ll give her credit if she’s ever mystified when she sees it happen.
I told my oldest, Pearl, who is just now getting into sports, that we hadn’t lost to Auburn since my middle child was born. She thought that was neat, but they (my girls) were shocked to find out Georgia lost. It was just unheard of in our household. But it was time to play Uno, so who fucking cares.
Color me shocked. Georgia losing, when I was growing up, was a Richter Scale movement in my heart. My girls don’t care. Honestly, I shouldn’t anymore. Maybe, in the grand scheme of things, we shouldn’t either.
The game is money. It honestly always has been, if we’re being honest. But the new perversity that is the 24 team playoff just solidifies that, and the majority of the season, to me, makes it more likely for me to accept the invitation to a September wedding I’ve never had accepted before. And that’s a shame.
I’ve had multiple relatives marry or have kids during college football season. I used to have the headphones in or watching on my phone. Not anymore.
I’m going hunting this weekend. I plan to sit in the stand and get closer to God, and peace, which is what you do in divorce. It’s not an Aaron Rogers transitive thing, it’s just connecting to something that has remained the same to me for my entire life. It’s peaceful, purposeful, and productive. It always has been. Sports, on the other hand, has been a temptive woman promising more. But it never delivered.
Maybe it’s from being a Falcons fan or Braves fan, but it has never satisfied. Even the two National Championships couldn’t erase the pain of life as I knew it with my soon to be ex-wife.
So it goes.
I’ve enjoyed posting here, and in all honesty, it has been in best of times and worst of times. Quality of work may have been compromised by quality of life. No, fuck that, it has. I had more fun with this when life was more fun, and when I wasn’t seeing my love, my heart, every other weekend.
I accepted and embraced my influence, if you can call it that, and someone yesterday said “suckcess” should be a part of the GTP Refugee Lexicon. I’m proud of that. Terms like Archduke and Texass have moved from my own sophomoric humor to Lexicon. That’s cool.
But what’s more cool is life, especially the life you brought into this world, and that’s my priority right now. I remain committed to posting here, but not the five a day I’ve been doing. It drives engagement, but we don’t make money and money would help right about now, so know it’s just for pure joy and passion for what we all experienced at GTP and hold fast to now. The blog was our happy place, and we want it to continue. Everyone wants their happy to continue.
So it goes.
I remain committed here to the community, but won’t be as present as I used to be. And it’s not for bad reason, as I hopefully explained here. I love you all, enjoy your comments more than you will ever understand, and hope for the continued success of this space.
But when you look at the stats and see how much youve posted and realize you could’ve written a book by now, which is a goal of mine, you question life and reality. But I don’t question my heart.
It’s faith, family, and football. Faith and family has screamed louder now and I have to attend to it.
Football, on the other hand, continues to influence itself I ways I can’t control.
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference
Don’t get me wrong, it’s still fun to watch. But I can’t accept a world where Kentucky is the SEC leader. Some things are supposed to be understood, until they’re not. It’s Bizzaro land, and I can’t make sense of it.
As my other favorite author said (Hunter S. qThompson), “when the going gets weird, the weird turn pro,”
I may come back here reformed. I hope I do, making light of things in the CFP world, but for now, I’m jaded, and accepting the influence and dealing with reality is beyond my desire to understand.
I get it, until I don’t.
While it might not seem like a lot, keeping up here requires a little research. I’d say two hours on Twitter, socials, and news flashes, then another two creating posts. I will readily admit that some of them, if not most, sucks. But it’s there, and it’s there for you. And Twix, as much as I hate it, is easily translatable here
While some have criticized what I put here (note: I don’t give two shits), I went back and looked at the Senators posts. In the latter years, it was a link to Twix and a few sentences. Sanson Carrasco, you can go fuck yourself as far as I’m concerned. And yes, he hit a nerve. Understandable if you know what I’m going through. As evidence, here’s a picture.
I’d like to point out that I have nice, muscular legs. In a 50s kinda way. I need to shave my head again and dye it blonde like I did at Riverbend and College Station in 1995.
Ah, memories. Smelling the hydrogen peroxide melting into my head. Somehow that foul smell was way better fhan college football reality today, and that is with knowing the guy who did that with my hair is now dead. And the guy doing it is a former attorney. He was smart, strong, and like a lot of people I know, gone too soon.
Life is precious. It’s fleeting and I’m done.
Adios, amigos. Time to write a new narrative.
