i swear i’m not trying to make it all about me…

… I’m just scared it might be.

I recently posted on TWER a rambling, mishmash of an old, poorly written post about the last time I saw Tommy Tuberville, my poorly expressed feelings on it now being the last time I’ll ever see him, and my theory as to how the complete implausibility of his ever being the coach at Texas Tech walked the plank of my magnetism.

Exhibit Z: This screen cap of the front page of my old paper’s web site. Look at Tuberville’s eyes. Look where they’re looking…

They’re looking at the photo / link to a story I wrote!

So you tell me: what are the chances that, right, right, I go to Lubbock, come back, all the things that happened happen, and then when the final thing happens – TT at TT, the biggest, freakiest of them all –  a story I sold them (the Boats! story – I still write for them occasionally) ends up adjacent to their coverage of it, i.e. directly under Tuberville’s wistful gaze?

Exactly.