“You need to see a bit of hell now and then. That and great joy.” - Barry Hannah The alarm was set for 4:20 a.m., both alarms actually, on the iPhone and iPad. But I didn’t need them. I lay in bed awake, waiting to see if they would work as planned, because I’m never that confident when we’re talking about technology.
I heard the sound of Marimba first, from the phone, which was drowning out the much more soothing and inspirational church bells from the pad. No, it’s not Mallard season over the rice paddies yet, which I’d given up years ago anyway. What this was all about was the early SEC “Game of the Week,” in Oxford, Miss., against Houston Dale and the Black Bears of Ole Miss.
I picked up brother-in-law Bob at his house at about 5:20; I was early. After being part of the Althoff clan for so many decades, I had learned to be punctual, if nothing else. His garage was open, and I grabbed my coffee and box of Shipley’s donuts and walked up his driveway. I went into the house through the garage door and found MF (Bob’s designation for himself. It stands for “Mother’s Favorite,” which is a great honor considering my dearly departed MIL, Margaret, had 10 children). MF was busy warming our kolaches, also from Shipley’s. “I brought cold donuts,” I told him.
We left Foxcroft and headed toward Sherwood to pick up Dennis, Bob’s older brother who is known somewhat affectionately as Surly when we play golf. He is also one-half of the “Laverne and Surly” team, Laverne being brother-in-law Bill Hooper from West Memphis.
We pulled into Dennis’ driveway and saw his silhouette, pacing and pointing at his wristwatch. We got out and Dennis mumbled something like “about time,” and we were soon driving east on I-40, toward West Memphis and Laverne. I had always intended to visit Oxford, to see Faulkner’s Rowan Oaks and walk the same streets as great writers like Richard Ford, Willie Morris and Barry Hannah, among others.
But that would have to be another time. This trip had but one purpose: to get from 5-1 to 6-1. We arrived at Patty and Bill’s house at around 7:40. Hooper walked out of the garage and told us not to wake Patty, Dennis and Bob’s sister. “She’ll bite your head off if you wake her up,” Hooper said. Bill should be from Oxford himself, as fiction comes to him naturally. Bob drove, and we crossed the Mississippi River on what’s known as the “old bridge” of I-55. Two barges moved slowly beneath us, carrying their tonnage north. We crossed from Tennessee into Mississippi, and Bill told a joke he had heard on his grandson’s iPhone, from YouTube, about a rich guy with a speech impediment who had trouble getting a date. That is, until he bought a boat and his confidence went up. I can’t come close to doing it justice here, but it has everything, including dolphins and swordfish and cotton balls. Very hilarious.
We arrived in Oxford and easily parked and began walking up the hill to the legendary Grove, the tailgating area located at the center of the campus. Approximately 10 acres in size and shaded by oak, elm and magnolia trees, it has been described by Sporting News as “the Holy Grail of tailgating sites.” After spending time with Ty Warren, of Little Rock and Ole Miss, at his tent, we headed back to the stadium to find row 57 of section R. It was a perfect day for college football, but after the first quarter I was wishing for my couch and remote so I could change the channel. We fell behind 17-0, and I thought of 1974, when Nutt, as the Central High QB, led his team back from a 21-0 halftime deficit against my Catholic High Rockets to beat us 22-21.
But the Hogs got it together in the third quarter, and near the end of the game, we led 29-17. But then we only led 29-24 and Ole Miss got the onside kick, causing a spike in my blood pressure, as well as in most of the state to the west. Thankfully, an interception saved the day, making our ride out of Mississippi relaxed and relieved.