I grew up in Lubbock, Texas, home of Buddy Holly, cotton, and endless miles of flat dirt. Which means I also grew up as a Texas Tech fan. Some of my fondest childhood memories are of going to the Tech games with my grandparents. My Papa would always wear his red and black cowboy boots, and I’d cross my fingers and hope the Saddle Tramps would throw a little red football my way. Then when it got cold, we’d huddle under a blanket and drink hot chocolate out of a Thermos and ooh and ahh over the Goin’ Band from Raiderland. On a field trip once, we got to run out onto the field at Jones Stadium, and it was like a dream come true.

But when I was in junior high, we moved to the DFW Metroplex, and I soon discovered that Red Raider fans were practically non-existent outside of West Texas. Most people were either loved Texas or Texas A&M, and over the years, my allegiance to Tech waned in favor of the Longhorns.

It’s important to point out, though, that even then, I wasn’t really a big fan of any sports, college or otherwise. Yeah, I liked sports, but I didn’t pay much attention to them, preferring Star Wars, comic books, or any other nerdy endeavor to football or basketball. (My dad once tried to get me excited about baseball cards. To this day, I still don’t understand the appeal of them.)

It wasn’t until late into high school and into college that I started to get interested in sports, and it wasn’t until after college that my love of college football really took off. (Of course, I don’t think it helped that I went to the University of Texas at Arlington, the only college I know of that has a marching band but no football team.) Late bloomer or not, though, today I’m a college football junkie and a die-hard Longhorns fan.

But it’s not just Texas that I root for now.

In the last couple of years, I’ve gotten hooked on the TCU Horned Frogs, a team I’ve always liked going back to the days of the Southwest Conference but never really paid much attention to. Part of my new-found admiration, of course, is due to their rise as a football powerhouse under Coach Gary Patterson. And part of it is due to my rediscovery of the city of Fort Worth. I worked in Fort Worth a while back but it wasn’t until we moved into the city limits a few years ago that I really began to think of it as my home. And how can you not root for the home team, especially one with such a Cinderella story?

Until Thursday, that dual affection for both Texas and TCU was perfectly acceptable, seeing as how since the breakup of the SWC in 1994, they’ve been in separate conferences and rarely play each other. It was perfectly fine to wear my TCU purple while flashing a spirited “Hook ‘Em Horns” to a fellow Longhorns fan. But all that changed when news broke that the Big 12 had invited the Frogs to join their conference, thus reuniting them with UT and causing a potentially embarrassing conflict of interest. Suddenly, I was faced with a serious dilemma: Do I have to choose one team over the other? And if so, where do my true allegiances lie?

It’s not an easy question. There are those that would say that you can only really be loyal to one team, and if you didn’t go to that school, you aren’t even worthy of wearing its colors. Which again, creates an immediate problem for those of us that didn’t have a team to root for. I guess I could say that since UT Arlington is part of the UT system, I’m sorta justified in bleeding burnt orange. But then I could say that I should stand behind the home team, which is of course outsized by Texas in every possible way except for the cost of tuition. I’ve always been a champion of the underdog, and TCU, despite its recent successes, is the epitome of an athletic underdog.

But the truth of the matter is, I don’t wanna choose. I don’t wanna stop throwing up a “Hook ‘Em Horns” any time I feel like it or tagging half my tweets with “#GoFrogs”. I don’t wanna trade my purple or burnt orange in for a single shade of collegiate attire. Why can’t I love them both equally (albeit for different reasons), even if this time next year they’ll be facing off against each other in a Big 12 conference game? After all, I may not be as enthusiastic about the Red Raiders as I once was, but I’ve never stopped liking them (although I always hated Mike Leach). Heck, I even like Baylor!

Does that make me a sports hypocrite, a fair-weather fan instead of a lifelong devotee? Perhaps, I don’t know. But at the end of the day, I really don’t care.

I say, Go Frogs, Hook ‘Em Horns, and hooray for college rivalries reborn.

Previously:
That awkward moment your daughter says she wants to go to Texas A&M
College football realignment? Done
The future of the Big 12 and how to stop it
…And win they did

It was like the day was burning
Everywhere he turned, he saw the fields on fire
Captive by the wire

Home fell like breaking china
Fear was the only thing they shared at all
Bearing every soul

Oh, give me rest tonite

– Hoi Polloi, “Rest Tonite”

Texas is in the midst of one of the worst droughts in the state’s history and suffering through one of its hottest summers. Here in the DFW Metroplex, we racked up 40 days straight of triple-digit high temperatures in July and August, two days short of tying a record, and have so far had 57 days total over 100 degrees, with that number climbing daily. Further south, it’s much worse. Austin has already had 69 days of 100 degree-plus weather and much less rainfall. Losses in crops and livestock due to the drought have cost Texas $5.2 billion, and much of the state is under severe water restrictions.

And there’s no sign of relief any time soon. While the temperatures will eventually subside in a month or so, meteorologists are saying we’re probably in for another drier-than-normal La Niña winter. Which means things will probably get a lot worse before they get any better.

Not that I want to go back to the ice and snow we had back in February that all but shut down the Metroplex for a week, but I’d like to at least go outside without the fear of spontaneous combustion. Is that too much to ask?

As bad as the weather is, though, it’s something you expect living in North Texas. Triple-digit heat for weeks on end in summer is perfectly normal, and anyone who’s lived here more than a couple of years knows how to deal with it. What’s debilitating, however, is the other kind of drought, the one that doesn’t come with maps, charts, and rainfall records.

It’s the physical drought, emotional drought, spiritual drought, financial drought. All of which I’ve been dealing with lately. More than just being in a rut, it’s the sense that nothing is ever going to get better, that relief from the current stresses and struggles is never going to arrive.

I haven’t been sleeping well. My back has been killing me due in part to the horrible bed we have, and I toss and turn at night only to wake up just as exhausted as I was the night before. I haven’t been eating right or exercising, which of course hasn’t helped the situation. And the financial hardships we’ve faced over the past several months have weighed heavily on me, not that I’m bothering to pray about them like I should. I have been reading my Bible, still on track to finish my year-long commitment to read the Bible by the end of September. But often I squeeze in my reading on my lunch break just to get through it and cross it off my list, not taking the time to reflect on what God is trying to tell me through His Word.

The result is that I’ve felt drained all the way around. Stuck. Worthless. Hopeless. Even though I know that just as with the months-long drought, the situation won’t last forever. Even though I know I can actually change some things on my own now, even if the changes are incremental.

Costa Rican missionary Jamie Wright recently wrote about a neighbor who, unable to sleep for weeks on end because of another neighbor’s barking dogs, has repeatedly begged for the barking to end, desperate to get some rest: ”PAZ SEÑOR, PAZ POR FAVOR….necesito dormir. NECESITO DORMIR… HAGA ALGO…”

“PEACE, SIR, PEACE PLEASE… I need to sleep. I NEED TO SLEEP… DO SOMETHING…”

And that’s exactly how I’ve felt. Tired, sore, beaten down, and desperate for rest.

There was a tinge of disappointment when our 40-day streak of hundred-degree heat was briefly broken a couple of weeks ago. If we were gonna suffer through so much heat, then we wanted some kind of recognition for it; we wanted to be Number 1. But I think there’s something significant about the streak only lasting 40 days.

In the beginning of His ministry, Jesus went into the wilderness and fasted for 40 days. During that time He was tempted by Satan, but the Bible says Jesus also became very hungry. Knowing how long that 40 days of heat felt like (somewhere around an eternity), I can’t imagine fasting for that long. Something tells me “very hungry” would be a drastic understatement. And yet that’s how long He was out there. Did He feel tired? Beaten down? Desperate? I don’t know. But I’m pretty sure there was a reason He did it. Jesus was about to begin a three-year ministry that would end with His death on a Roman cross. He knew the road ahead of Him and knew how difficult it would be. But it was necessary, and He needed time alone with His Father before it began.

Of course, there’s a big difference between a fast and a drought. Jesus chose to fast; we didn’t choose to have a drought. Yet both are hardships, and both bring pain. Hebrews 5:8 says, “Even though Jesus was God’s Son, he learned obedience from the things he suffered.” There’s no question Jesus suffered during His 40 days in the wilderness. But through that suffering He learned obedience. In the midst of pain, you essentially have two choices: You can grow up or you can give up. Jesus didn’t give up. And neither can I.

This past Sunday our pastor talked about James 1:2-4:

Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing.

When you’re going through the troubles, the pain, the drought, he said, you’re not gonna feel joy. You’re gonna hurt. You’re gonna mourn. But the joy comes in the fact that your faith is being tested, that it’s being proven real. It’s easy to have faith when it’s never tested, but if it’s never tested, how do you know you can really depend on it? Only through putting it to the fire can we know that it can withstand the flames. And for that reason, James says, we should be joyful.

So that’s where I am: in the middle of the fire. Tired, beaten down, financially broke, spiritually broken, desperate for rest. And yet somehow full of joy and thankful for the drought.

Previously:
Who is your Elihu?
Look for the search lights
What, me worry?
Who’s in your mine?

Source.

U.S. Representative Joe Barton agrees. Barton, whose district borders TCU’s hometown of Fort Worth, has even gone so far as to compare the Bowl Championship Series to communism. And nothing gets a Republican congressman more worked up than the threat of communism. Hence his anti-BCS bill, which has now passed in a House Energy and Commerce subcommittee.

The bill, sponsored by Rep. Joe Barton, R-Arlington, is not the BCS-destroying solution envisioned by millions of college football fans. But if it were to eventually become law, it would turn up the pressure on the BCS by preventing the group from calling its title game a “national championship game” unless it was the result of a playoff system. …

“What our friends and fans need to know about the Bowl Championship Series is that it is not about choosing the champion or competition on the gridiron,” Barton said. “It is about revenue sharing for the schools that are in the BCS conferences.”

In other words, instead of keeping all that revenue within the BCS conferences, we’re supposed to force them by law to give some of it Robin-Hood-style to the poor non-BCS conferences. Because that’s the American way, I suppose.

No, regardless of how you feel about the BCS, Barton’s bill is not the answer. Congress needs to stay out of it. Whatever changes come about need to happen because of pressure from coaches, universities, and the NCAA. And of course from the fans, since they are what the corporate sponsors (you know, the companies that provide the millions of dollars in payouts to the schools?) really care about.

Not that I’m expecting anything to change. But we don’t need Congress screwing it up any more than it already is.

As a sidenote, notice that Nebraska Congressman Lee Terry only supported the bill after the Cornhuskers lost the Big 12 title game against Texas. So is this about correcting a moral injustice or pouting because your team didn’t win?

Yeah, that’s what I thought.

Previously:
‘Fairness Index’ doesn’t prove the BCS is fair
The BCS: ‘Communistic’ or not?
Yes, the BCS is flawed. What’s your point?

Like many residents in the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex, I live in the suburbs but work in Dallas. I drive to work five days a week to my office in North Dallas, then drive home when I’m done. And that’s pretty much the extent of my association with Big D.

I was reminded of just how foreign Dallas is to me when Fort Worth urban blogger Kevin Buchanan took a self-guided tour through the city, comparing Dallas’s urban design to that of Cowtown’s. (And yes, I know how much he hates that term; wouldn’t want to promote Fort Worth’s agricultural roots too much, would we?)

Anyhow, while I disagree with Buchanan on a lot of things, I agree with him that much of Dallas is designed more for car traffic than foot traffic. It’s designed to accommodate workers who commute in by car to work, not for residents or visitors to spend leisure time there. And while there are a handful of attractions to be found, there aren’t many, and those that exist are spread out really far from each other.

As a result, there’s very little incentive to drive way back across town to visit on my time off. After all, what would I do when I got there? If you’re going to a Mavericks or Stars game, there’s the American Airlines Center, but the adjoining Victory Park is almost completely vacant. (What few restaurants and retail stores open there struggle to stay in business.) You could go to the Dallas World Aquarium, but the nearby West End is also pretty vacant. There’s the State Fair in the fall, but the fairgrounds are pretty quiet the rest of the year. Or there’s the Sixth Floor Museum if you still have any interest in the JFK assassination.

But if you just want to stroll around town to eat and shop and listen to live music, you won’t be going Downtown. Other than a plethora of skyscrapers, there’s not much there.

Contrast that with some other big cities like Chicago. I’ve visited Chicago a few times on business, and when the weather is nice, it has a lot to offer. Grant Park and Millenium Park sit between downtown and Lake Michigan, offering plenty of family-friendly space to hang out. The Navy Pier, Lincoln Park, and the Magnificent Mile also offer plenty of activities, just to name a few. Downtown is extremely pedestrian-friendly, and the buses and trains allow most workers to take public transportation to work rather than have to navigate the already-insane streets.

Dallas, meanwhile, can’t even figure out how to build a convention center hotel.

Listen, I don’t mean to bash Dallas, I really don’t. I just don’t have any strong feelings towards it, despite the fact I’ve lived in the Metroplex for over 20 years. Yeah, I guess I could make more of an effort to get to know the city better. Who knows, maybe I would learn to appreciate it more. But for now, other than a biweekly paycheck, there’s not much compelling me to come back.

Previously:
Better than Fair

Six Flags. (SIX; about 30,000 employees; stock down 84%). This theme-park operator has been losing money for several years, and selling off properties to try to pay down debt and get back into the black. But the ride may end prematurely. Moody’s expects cash flow to be negative in 2009, and if consumers aren’t spending during the peak summer season, that could imperil the company’s ability to pay debts coming due later this year and in 2010.

OK, so the numbers don’t look too good. But as someone who worked there for three seasons while in high school and whose kids beg almost daily to go back, I’m really hoping they’ll be able to ride out the next couple of years (no pun intended). Not that anyone expects them to be profitable, but then again, who is these days? (I mean, other than Exxon.)

Despite the grim forecast, I think Six Flags actually has a lot going for them in a down economy. After all, if you live reasonably close to a Six Flags park, it’s a lot cheaper for a family to buy season tickets than it is to shell out a ton of money for airline tickets to fly somewhere. That’s what we did last year, and it worked out great.

And besides, how can you possibly trust a list of soon-to-be-extinct companies from Yahoo when they themselves aren’t on the list?

’Nuff said.

Previously:
What I did on my summer vacation
Better than Fair

Aptly named, the Funnel is the area north of DFW Airport where seven different highways converge, a pretty good design if it weren’t for the roughly half million cars that pass through it five days a week. (Really, it must be more than that.)

There have been plans for years to reconstruct the area with additional lanes (including some toll lanes) and a better design. We were told it would take years to complete (up to 10 years by some estimates) and that it would get worse before it gets better.

Now it looks like it may just get worse.

Having done nothing so far, now the costs of construction are a reported $1 billion (up from $400 million in 2000), which has some people wondering if the project is too expensive to complete as designed.

Money, however, is not a deciding factor in this case. The Funnel provides a critical northern link between Tarrant and Dallas counties, and as the population of the Metroplex continues to grow, something must be done to relieve the pressure from all the cars that swarm the highways each morning and evening. Even if that something runs into the billions.

I’ve always had a strong dislike of toll roads, and this is no exception. But honestly, there are days I would happily fork over the extra cash just to relieve some of the stress of dealing with an already-long commute.

I’m sure there are many others who feel the same way.

Megan said she was most looking forward to seeing the horses. (‘Cause, y’know, she never sees horses anywhere else.)

Hopefully the animals will be a little more excited to see us than they were the last time I was there. Hurry! Get this lion a double espresso!

On the surface it doesn’t really sound like anything too exciting: looking at a bunch of cattle, sheep, pigs, chickens, horses, and various other livestock. But it actually is a lot of fun. We head out there every year with the kids and then go out for barbeque afterwards. (I still don’t think the girls understand where that yummy brisket comes from.) It’s one of those days you feel like you’re reconnecting with what it means to be a Texan. If you’re from Texas, you understand.

There’s a petting zoo and carnival midway, which we don’t bother with. There’s also the rodeo, which is really great but also a bit expensive. We haven’t taken the girls to the rodeo yet since they haven’t been old enough for us to really justify spending the money. Maybe this year, who knows?

I’m just glad to have the opportunity for the girls to see (and smell) these animals up close to get a real appreciation for the role they play in our lives. Agriculture is still a huge part of our economy and our statewide identity, and it’s easy to lose sight of that living in the suburbs and growing up surrounded by a Wal-Mart, Starbucks, and Home Depot on every corner. After all, what would Cowtown be without the cows?