Clemson Undefeated ... Again!
Aug 25th 2008 - Written by: Karen Zdonek
As certain as the passing of the seasons, as winter turns to spring and summer to football season, my world will take on a life not of my own making. Although it might look or sound a bit different each year, it is always the same in the end. The Tigers always wear orange; the freshmen look younger every year; and my delusional, irrational, Clemson football loving husband, boldly predicts unprecedented success for his Clemson team before they even take the field. “Honey, this year Clemson is going undefeated!”
While winter settles over us to bring much needed rest, the football season culminates in an epic showdown. After the Bowl game is over and we walk down the concourse leaving the stadium, my husband and his merry band of Clemson fanatics are already discussing next year. Holding their heads high no matter the outcome, they expel their profound knowledge of next year’s team. Heated discussions break out about “who is leaving for the draft and what their number will be, the weakness in the O-line, and the strengths of the young guys moving up the depth chart on the defensive line”. He is usually pessimistic after a long season and cautious in his prediction. He takes my hand, as if to give himself the courage, and turns to me to say, “Honey, I feel real good about Clemson going 7-5 next year.”
Hope springs eternal in every Clemson football fan as news of spring practice hits the message boards. The constant ringing of the cell phone, clicking of fingers texting the latest injury report’s, and chattering among church friends about whom looked good in practice, lets me know that spring is here. I tell of an injury sustained during practice to a player’s wrist. My husband stares wide-eyed at me for knowing something about his Tigers that he didn’t. I can’t tell if it’s pride in his eyes or disbelief. He peppers me with questions about how I found out. I tell him I got a call directly from the head coach. It takes him a while to figure out that I’m talking about our son, not one of the football players. My husband and the merry band spend the afternoon on the golf course playing little golf while mulling over the upcoming season and how their Tigers are going to do. The orange lens has been pulled over his eyes. “Honey, me and the boys think that Clemson’s season would be a waste if we don’t go 8-4 this year!”
Never ending is the cycle of information about Clemson that flows into my house. I send my daughter to check the mailbox. She comes back heavy-handed with catalogs flowing out of her arms. As the magazines drop to the floor, I don’t recognize any of the names… Athlon, Lindy’s, Sporting News and none of the models on the front are the usual size 2 that I am used to seeing. The next few nights our bedtime conversation consists of learning all about what these “highly educated” men think about the upcoming football season. Not quite the foreplay I was hoping for. Phil Steele and Victoria’s Secret came the same day. I thought that there is no way that my husband can turn down a peek at her secret. Wrong! His eye caught the corner of Phil Steele’s magazine under the Victoria Secret’s catalog. Leaping over the couch to get at the last bit of new information, he was dialing the merry band to dissect this precious nugget. On our way to church on Sunday, he announces confidently, “Honey, you know I don’t see how we can do any worse than 10-2 this year.”
Practice, pads and puking all mean that fall practice is in full swing. My husband knows a guy whose sister’s, cousin’s, brother-in-law’s, best friend’s boss knows a coach on staff. Somehow they have coerced him into getting them into a closed scrimmage. Giddy with the prospect of seeing the team together for the first time this season, my husband’s dream will be complete when the football season tickets arrive. While sharks smell blood in the water miles away, my husband can smell season tickets in the mail days away. He bounds through the door clutching an envelope full of tickets close to his chest with a wry smile on his face. I can tell that he is guilty of something, but what? Moments later I find him rolling on the bed in Clemson season tickets. He spots me at the door and exclaims with a ticket stuck to his forehead, “Honey, it is absolutely sure that we are ACC champs at 11-1!”
Waking last Saturday morning I hear, “It is one week till Game Day!” Because my husband has way too much energy for me at this time of day, I push him out of bed and tell him to go make himself useful. I come downstairs to find that our backyard has been transformed into a scene from Death Valley. Every last piece of our tailgating equipment is erected in the yard like a monument to Clemson football. It only took him 15 minutes to get the tent up, arrange the chairs, hook up the TV, find the satellite signal, pack the cooler, fire up the grill and pop open his first beer. Disappointed with his first attempt of the season, he spends the whole day refining his technique. At last when the sun dips below the Blue Ridge Mountains, he is satisfied with his days work. He yells from his Clemson chair still parked under the tent “Honey, 12-0….. Undefeated, Baby!”
This Saturday I will be startled awake with Kick Start My Heart by Motley Crew blasting from the downstairs stereo. A game day tradition for my husband and his merry band… I have come to understand that this will always be. Proudly we will don our orange and paint paws on our face’s - to join the caravan of orange driving to the Georgia Dome. The site of the first game may change from year to year but the Tigers will still wear orange, the Freshmen still look young, and my delusional, irrational, Clemson football loving husband has once again predicted an undefeated season for the Tigers.
If you would like to comment on this column then you can email Karen at tigerjcz@yahoo.com.
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