Something my OU buddy sent me.
Simms, steers and stoners can't save UT
by Nathan Anderson - Daily opinion editor & Jenny Dial - Daily sports editor
October 10, 2002
"Why does Chris Simms eat soup off a plate?"
"Because he chokes in a bowl."
Particularly the Cotton Bowl, where Simms and his fellow Longhorns will serve up another Sooner victory with their pathetic attempts in the annual Red River Shootout this Saturday.
Actually, we here at OU kinda like Chris Simms. After all, he always goes the extra mile to keep the ball safely out of the hands of Texas receivers and comfortably into the hands of the Sooner defense.
Let's look back to 2000. In case the weed has fogged your memories, Austin, the Longhorns had a less-than-stellar performance, falling to the Sooners 63-14. OU running back Quentin Griffin, then a sophomore, had six touchdowns and was the best player in that game.
Fast forward one year to 2001, another OU victory, this time 14-3 and the Sooner game ball goes to Chris Simms -- the best player on OU's team. Why did he bother to put on that hideous burnt orange uniform?
In that game, little Chris threw four interceptions and was sacked three times by Jimmy Wilkerson -- he took five total sacks (not those kind of sacks, hippies).
You can't really blame Simms for sucking. He is small, he can't scramble. He doesn't make quick decisions and no one really knows how well he can throw the ball since he hits the ground faster than Texan Anna Nicole Smith pounces on a cheesecake.
Maybe we could give Simms some credit for his rushing game. No one rushes to hit the ground in fear of OU's fierce defense quite like Chris Simms does.
But don't worry Longhorns. Simms isn't representative of your entire student body. I mean, there are actually documented photos of him without a joint in his mouth.
Hey Austin, newsflash, it's 2002. No one has flashed your "hook 'em horns" hand sign since Motley Crue's last tour.
Speaking of living in the past, the hippie culture is dead, in case you haven't been informed. Granted, the members of Phish are probably thrilled to death that you slap their stickers on your 4.9 mile per gallon SUVs.
The combination of your car fumes, pot smoke and bare feet create a stench that starts in Waco and travels down to San Antonio.
Of course, some odor is to be expected from a university with 800 kajillion students in attendance. Are there even applications to get into UT anymore?
At one point, the primary entrance test was whether or not you could correctly spell your name, but judging by the abundance of burned out, Birkenstock-wearing, pony-tailed losers, the admission standards must have gotten to the point where you can attend if you can do something simple, like making your own bed. Oh wait, nope. Apparently you can't even do that, since some UT dorms come with maid service. Can't you rich white frat boys do anything for yourselves?
Of course, making a bed is quite complicated when you are highly intoxicated. We can understand the high level of drunkenness in the fine city of Austin, what with your six-point beer. Hell, we would need six-point beer, too, if the future of our football team resided in the slippery hands of Chris Simms and that waterboy-with-a-headset, Mack Brown.
Was your athletic director high when he hired Brown to coach? Probably. (Isn't everyone in Austin?) What kind of idiot plays a terrible quarterback over a great one? Hey Mack, if my last name was Simms, could I play, too?
Texas had an excellent QB in Major Applewhite, yet nancy-boy Chris Simms trotted right onto the field, unlike your mascot who will never trot again, seeing as he has to be stoned to the horns before you can drag him onto the field.
Do you have to drug him because he is too ashamed to represent such a useless establishment? Come to think of it, a steer is a perfect mascot for UT.
Think about it.
Let's face it UT, you are simply the flagship university for the state that elected Dubya to lead you. By the way, thanks for giving that man power.
Austin exists primarily to provide nose candy for Bush and alcohol for his underage daughter. How will you ever get media attention now that Jenna is 21? We'll try to help you out by trampling over you for the third straight year.
We'll make all of this easy for you to understand: Your city sucks. Your quarterback sucks. Your coach sucks. Your university sucks. Kenny G. Sucks (for unrelated reasons). And ultimately your team sucks.