My daughter is 9. She knows more about Texas football than probably most 9 year old girls in the Chicago area. A week or so ago, I was watching the 2008 Mizzou game. Not knowing it was from 2008, she saw Texas kick a field goal and asked, "Dad, is that Dicker the kicker?" I was proud.
Listened to last half of that game while driving a rental car back from Sherman, TX to DFW airport to catch a flight back home to Corpus Christi. The last eight minutes increased my anxiety to an almost unbearable level, and I thought I was going to stroke out! As I drove up to the Thrifty car return place in that awful DFW maze, Texas was lining up for the final kick. I told the Thrifty guy, a foreign gentleman of middle eastern descent, "Please hang on a a second. I'm listening to a football game!" He did not have the slightest clue about Texas-OU weekend in the big D, and the game, but patiently waited for me. When the kick was good, I just absolutely felt overcome with joy/ relief, and handed him the keys. My wife had to endure my griping and cursing, and though i was insane. What a memory!
