The wait is almost over. After months of review, anticipation and planning, we're mere days away. It's almost time ... for tailgating!
Oh, and some football will be played as well. Which is nice.
OK, let me qualify that. I am a passionate, dyed-in-the-wool football fan. In my younger, fully-employed-in-this-field days, having a junior high school game on Thursday, high school on Friday, the Hogs on Saturday and the NFL on Sunday seemed just about right. And it was complete after Monday Night with Howard and Dandy Don.
I come from a long line of folks who agree with the Southern belief in the importance of faith, family and football, at least in general terms, but wonder if that order is exactly iron-clad. I went to a college where, at one point, the institution's president said he wanted to build a university the football team could be proud of.
So to even suggest I might be more excited about the pre-game festivities than the game itself is either the sort of sacrilege that will cause seismic activity in the vicinity of a Lawton, Okla., cemetery that will have nothing to do with fracking or is a clear sign to my immediate family that I'm about to start wandering around the yard, unshaven and mumbling to myself. Wait, they're already used to that. Well, you get the point.
However, it's not that bad.
The reality is, over the years, I've watched so much football and had my heart broken so many times that, while I'm not immune to the emotions associated with fan-dom, I've become slightly more philosophical. Regardless of the outcome, life will go on. The sun will rise. The TV remote control will get put back together (not sure how it flew across the room and exploded against the wall. Poltergeist, perhaps?). There will be other games, and while chances are you'll be just as disappointed, at least there's hope. And universal remotes just aren't that expensive.
I have discovered I have little or no influence over the events as they play out on the field. Regardless of my belief in prayer, the game's outcome won't rely on cosmic beseeching and complete faith in lucky shirts, house shoes, chairs and the importance of standing in the same spot during all drives, unless they punt, in which case you have to move to the backup spot over by the floor lamp.
All that means if I'm going to enjoy my Saturdays, to quote virtually every football coach ever, I have to control the controllables (Is that even a word? And are we surprised, if it isn't, that a football coach said it?). And that, friends and fellow fans, is the tailgate.
The beauty of this is that, instead of having an eye-rolling nay-sayer to my periodic tantrums and prayerful exhortations with regard to the kicking ability of some random 19-year-old from Chickasha, I now have an ally. Because if there's anything the Lovely Mrs. Smith enjoys more than attending a party, it's decorating for one.
The fact that she runs with like-minded folk goes a long way toward explaining why, while other tents have grills and that bean-bag toss deal with a scoring system more complicated than college physics, ours tends to feature a chandelier, table runners and a zebra-striped rug. Bling. It's what separates us from the animals.
So, if, as time goes on, I'm a little more inclined to remain at the pre-game rather than attend the actual game, it's kind of hard to blame me. After all, the circumference of my rear end and the average college stadium seat just don't mesh as well as they used to and there are still chicken nuggets, bean dip and those cool little bacon-wrapped deals back at the buffet. Perhaps those things are related?
In fact, tailgating is sort of like camping. You're eating outside, there's a tent and you can sing if you want to (although it's not recommended for everyone). However, there are no bears (unless Missouri State or Baylor are in town) and if you wind up sleeping, we'll need to discuss restraint and pacing.
In a few days it will be a fall Saturday in the South. At the University of Arkansas, and colleges across the region and the country, the tents and the grills and the bean bag deals will all be back. Here's hoping that whether you'll be at the tailgate, actually in the stadium or in the comfort of your own home, it's everything you want it to be.
And remember: Victory and defeat may come and go. But you can always win the party.
GARY SMITH IS A RECOVERING JOURNALIST LIVING IN ROGERS.
Commentary on 09/04/2014