Open letter to fans in TS Sat. nite...and the Negatards who weren't

I was born into a family of Tiger fans- season ticketholders in Shreveport (!) who never missed a game. I grew up in BR and I've been going to games since my childhood in the 60's. In recent years, when people talked about the 'mystique' of TS, I would just smile and think back fondly to the old days, when it was real- to me, it was still fun, still loud, but just didn't seem to have that special magic anymore. I felt like we were milking the reputation but falling short of living up to it; somehow, despite winning more than ever, something was missing. But then...

Saturday night, I bought a ticket for $15, 20 minutes before kick-off, that probably belonged to a Nega-tard who thought "there was no way we could win that game with a patched-up OL made up of 3rd-stringers and freshmen, an over-rated bumble-footed quarterback, an offense hampered by unimaginative playcalling from an inept coaching staff", etc., etc., yada-yada- but you know what? That stadium was alive, it was electric, the energy was crackling and palpable, it wasn't a myth or an old legend, it was a real force that was too powerful for our opponent to overcome. I screamed and stomped and clapped and cheered, and when a play didn't go our way I screamed and stomped and clapped and cheered the next play, and there was never a single moment during that game that did not feel like there was any way that we could lose, regardless of the scoreboard that for most of the game read otherwise. My throat is raw, my voice is a raspy whisper, my back and stomach ache from the gut-wrenching screaming, my hands are throbbing from the high-five beatings and clapping, my ankles are swollen from the jumping up and down and stomping, and I would not trade the feeling for anything in this world.

Science and logic would indicate that there's no way for some insignificant middle-aged old hippie way up in the North End Zone drinking bourbon and acting like a fool with his youngest daughter (student tickets, graduates this spring) could have any effect whatsoever on the outcome on the field below, but yet I believed I could, and 92,000 others with me believed that together we could help the team and make a difference- and together we did it. To all of the true fans in Tiger Stadium with me that evening, I want to thank you and say it was an honor and privilege to stand and roar with you, and you can rightly join me in being proud to have been a meaningful part of something special. TS is still magic; it was merely my belief and wide-eyed wonder that had faded slightly over time.

Then, after the game, I come home and read through the TD Scoreboard "blow-by-blow" of the game- and I was shocked, disgusted, and appalled. 300-and-something page after page of a constant barrage of criticism, & pessimistic mean-spirited useless drivel. I truly don't know what game you were watching; certainly not the one we experienced in the stadium.
I cannot fathom what you people think you are accomplishing, sitting there thinking you are clever by typing what play you think they should run or who you think 'sucks'- I wish it was still up so I could go through it again and call out the ones by name who deserve to have their snotty noses rubbed in the crap they laid on the screen. Stuff like "This is pitiful", "we cannot win", "the D is getting worn down, just like the Fla game, here we go again" (this in 2nd quarter, w/ TOP 3-to-1 in LSU's favor!), "get (whoever) off the field, he stinks", "this is pathetic", "this team is an embarrasment" (13-14, late in the 3rd), etc. No sir, this group of young men, this coaching staff and this school, and particularly the way they all performed as a team in that game is something I can be proud of; it is YOU that is the embarrassment.

You people just don't get it or understand the basic concept of being a fan- the only possible remote chance of you doing anything at all beneficial to this team is by mustering up whatever paltry amount of positive energy you can manage and throwing it into the gumbo; nobody cares how well you think you could coach or 'evaluate talent'. You are missing the chance at something greater, to feel like you are a part of something, a contributor, a valued asset, to make magic happen and will your team to victory. We cannot win them all, but there is honor and dignity to be had through facing the competition with a heartfelt belief that victory is possible, and by not giving your team the support they deserve you give yourself no chance to be a part of the Tiger Nation that we true fans know that we are blessed to be a member of.

When Nov.3rd rolls around (OK, "rolls" is probably the wrong word to use), on paper, there is probably not a chance in Hell that we can beat that Alabama team. But hey, you know what? The game's not being played on paper, and it's not in Hell, it's going to be on hallowed ground in Tiger Stadium on a Saturday night, and I BELIEVE that there just might be a little magic in the air that evening. So if any of you Negatards, Les-haters, play-calling geniuses, "the backup QB is better", "we don't stand a chance", "I don't wanna suffer through that game" unhappy cynic ticketholders who don't deserve to sit in that stadium anyway want to sit at home and spout your insipid tripe on the Internet during the game, I will take your ticket and be proud to cheer for my team, to do my best to preserve the reputation of Tiger Stadium as the greatest place on this planet to be on a fall Saturday night (unless you're on the wrong sideline!), I'll represent my Paw-Paw and everyone else's dearly departed loved ones who'd be there cheering if only they were still alive, I promise to scream and rave like a lunatic to the point of causing concern to those around me that "that old dude looks like he's about to have a stroke", I will leave after the game is over, exhausted and spent and honored to have been a part of it and proud to be a Tiger, regardless of the outcome.

Seriously. Anybody. I need a ticket and my team needs me.