You know, maybe all dogs do, in fact, go to heaven. One thing everyone associated with Mississippi State University football found out on Saturday is, at the very least, the Bulldogs sure know how to give everyone a first-hand taste of Paradise.
What a day. What a feeling. From the initial appearance of ESPN’s College Gameday pregame show on campus, to the first nationally-televised home CBS broadcast in nearly a decade, Dan Mullen and his maroon and white clad warriors finally gave all of us who packed the clanging coliseum of cowbells known as Davis Wade Stadium a peek through the pearly gates of the gridiron world.
In this domain, I saw no streets of gold. I didn’t catch a glimpse of anything with a halo. Yet I did carry home with me one lasting image. It was a picture that didn’t even come into complete focus until Sunday afternoon. As my vision cleared and the ringing in my ears subsided, I was able to see the most beautiful sight this MSU fan has ever seen in the form of our precious M-State logo with the No. 1 beside it. It’s funny how the smallest of digits can mean so much.
Not that any State fan needed too much validation on Sunday. See, as the clock ticked down to 0:00 on Saturday evening, there wasn’t much question as to where the Bulldogs would find themselves ranked just a few hours later. Maybe that’s why a torrential downpour did nothing to dampen the mood amongst the largest crowd in MSU history. The heavy precipitation also saved a few egos I’m sure. “No I’m not crying. That’s a rain drop.”
Yes, this win meant that much to Mississippi State and all of its supporters. No Hollywood underdog drama has ever been penned with as much heartbreak and backstory as this script. Don’t let anyone try to tell me that this was just another football game. If that’s your perspective, allow me the honor of opening your eyes.
This was the story of a football program that has been beaten, battered and abused for a century ascending to the mountaintop of college sports. It was the story of a bold, boisterous coach fulfilling his end of every promise he ever made, no matter how many times he’d heard “you can’t” or “you won’t.”
It doesn’t end there. This tale featured a team loaded with athletes that at one time, most considered to be the scrap heap of the Southeastern Conference. Like the not-so-nice looking individual with the “great personality” at your high school prom, these were talented players, but nothing to write home about. That’s why the refrain of most pundits almost always turned to the roster full of five-star recruits Nick Saban or Les Miles or one of the other big-time programs of the SEC had compiled. Yet here we were, witnessing the real-life transforming of a frog into a prince.
The leading role in this blockbuster was filled by the quarterback of this once-overlooked band of misfits. Dak Prescott, the mama’s boy who lost his mama. The story, at this point, is well-known. Peggy Prescott lost her battle with cancer late last year, costing Dak not only his mother, but his best friend. Now, every time this Louisiana-raised signal caller prances into the end zone on Saturdays, he points to the heavens to honor Peggy as he climbs ever closer to the grandest individual prize in all of college sports, the Heisman Trophy.
Last but not least, this was the story of a downtrodden fan base. Some young, some old, but virtually all of which had long known what it was like to be the doormat of college football. If what we witnessed Saturday was indeed a small sampling of the afterlife, many of us supporters also know all too well what it’s like to walk through the fires of football hell.
Yet there we all were. In the 100th season of football inside Davis Wade Stadium, with a team that just played for the national championship a season ago standing on the opposing sideline, Mississippi State became the standard bearer. If there are flies in the real heaven, I would’ve loved to be on the wall of Jack Cristil’s mansion Saturday, hearing him tell all the other legends of the SEC who’ve passed on how all of America is now wrapped in maroon and white.
Folks, to put it honestly, I feel no written words can adequately describe the feelings I’ve had since Saturday. And look, I’m no fool. I believe in a real heaven where one day we’ll all be joyful forevermore. What I can absolutely confirm is that as an alum, fan and booster of Mississippi State, it gets no better than this.
So, is this really heaven? Nope. It’s just Starkville. Home to the best team in all of college football.
The Coleman Clanga 