Empire’s End…
The morning after it still turns my stomach. Within the safe confines of a Holiday Inn in Knoxville, TN, the legions of orange clad fans are quiet, exchanging knowing and mutually sympathetic glances. Last night at Neyland Stadium we had endured together, witnessing the final undoing of what has been a football dynasty of sorts. Our beloved Vols do not lose to South Carolina. Last night we did. They do not have losing seasons. This year we do. Since Phillip Fulmer assumed the top coaching position some 13 or so years ago, we’ve been on a rip - a National Championship, multiple SEC Championships, bowl games every year. And now it ends. This does not feel right. It does not feel good.
Suffering through the 4th quarter of a game we should have been able to win, there was little to cheer for. Cold wind blowing, teeth chattering, body shivering, my mind wandered to why? Why am I spending all this money and time to be abused this way. Studying the faces around me, listening to the deafening roar of silence from 107,715 of my closest friends - my family, I knew I was not alone. They were thinking the same thing. Back at the lounge of the Holiday Inn, the quiet conversations around me confirmed those thoughts. Verbatim. The Rolling Rock and Bud Light and Jack Daniels would not wash away the sorrows of the Vol faithful. Not this time.
A restless night’s sleep did not help much either. Up too early - why did the time change have to happen on top of this? So I write about it, hoping for some cleansing catharsis. But it’s not happening yet. No one wants to read all the words and pages it might take for the sick feeling to subside. And I do not want to write them. I am sad…not angry, not even a little pissed. Just so very sad…