8/29/2007
Growing up, it was always fascinating to listen to the Auburn legends of Pat Sullivan and Ralph "Shug" Jordan. I would always fill up with wonder when my aunts and uncles would talk about Bo Jackson and Pat Dye while they went to Auburn for college. I grew up during the Terry Bowden era, and there were some amazing runs during that time in Auburn football. In Trussville, where I grew up, it sometimes felt that it might as well should have been painted Crimson and White. Our star quarterback that defined "Hewitt-Trussville" was famed Alabama quarterback Jay Barker. Not until my freshman year of high school we had somebody else take the reigns of football greatness at Hewitt-Trussville. His name was Brandon Cox. Although my memory of him is fuzzy, his senior year was by far the best year of football during my stay at the high school. Every play seemed to be a Brandon Cox pass to Lee Guess for the touchdown. Hewitt's amazing season was over with a loss to the Hoover Buccaneers with a little known quarterback named John Parker Wilson taking the snaps.
Fast forward a few years. My freshman year started like it did my freshman year in high school- with Brandon Cox the starting quarterback. I'll always remember that year because Cox made a clutch 4th down pass to a 31-30 win over the University of Georgia. My first Iron Bowl was a massacre- we sacked Brodie Croyle 11 times and beat the mighty Tide 28-18.
Sophomore year we came out swinging. Washington State was another massacre. Our first test was against a highly ranked LSU team. We beat them in the closest game I've ever witnessed, as we went on to win 7-3. I thought that nothing could top that win, but again I was proved wrong by my Tigers. #2 Florida came into our house with a senior quarterback in Chris Leak and a cocky freshman named Tim Tebow. Although we were down at halftime, our defense helped us win 27-17. There were no offensive touchdowns in the game. Jordan-Hare Stadium had never been that loud.
And then came this year, which is my Junior year. With losing great players such as Kenny Irons, Courtney Taylor and Ben Grubbs, I knew this year could be tough. Our first game was a true fight, but we prevailed against Kansas State. Then came South Florida and Mississippi State. Both were upsets, and resulted in the booing of our quarterback. Many felt he had lost his touch, and demanded Kodi Burns to take his place. I never booed Brandon, I have always cheered for him since he's a fellow Hewitt graduate, so I was eager to see if he could redeem himself.
Throughout my life, I always dreamed of being apart of one of those "legend" games. You know what I'm talking about, the kind of games that you will want to tell your grandchildren one day. A game that truly shows the character of man. 1972's "Punt Bama Punt." 1982's "Bo Over The Top." 1989's "Iron Bowl." 1994's win over #1 ranked Florida.
Hearing about these kind victories always made me happy. I would especially get excited when the I heard the old legend of when Terry Bowden's 1994 Team beat #1 Florida in the Swamp. My chance to invade the swamp came on Saturday the 29th.
The Swamp is an intimidating place. The fans are loud, but not as obnoxious and rude as LSU fans. As I entered into the stadium, all I could think about was how this was the place Steve Spurrier built. Nobody gave us a chance to beat the then #4 ranked Florida Gators. Lou Holtz even said our chances of us beating Florida were as good as him becoming Senator of Florida. We were supposed to be a 21 point underdog in this game. Florida had not lost a home football game since late 2004. And oh yeah, by the way, the last time we won at The Swamp was that fateful game in 1994 where Patrick Nix found Frank Sanders in the endzone with 30-odd seconds left in the 4th quarter to beat #1 ranked Florida. Earlier in the season, Auburn had lost to a talented South Florida team. Mississippi State came next, and dealt a serious blow to Auburn's confidence. Auburn redeemed itself after a dominating victory over New Mexico State a week earlier. The week leading up to this Florida game, I just had a special feeling inside. I knew that big things were in store for Auburn. I had not had this feeling since the 2005 Iron Bowl when Alabama was favored to beat us at home.
Early in the game we scored. However, cheesy this may sound, all I could think about were all the times I had seen the AU flag fly. Images of Samford Hall and Toomer's flooded through my mind. I, along with my Auburn brothers and sisters went nuts when that first touchdown was scored by Kodi Burns, a freshman quarterback. I looked down at my hand, and it was shaking. A few possessions later, Florida got into field goal range, only for their attempt to be blocked. This was shaping up to be huge. Every cheer that was called I yelled. Every time Florida was on offense I yelled. Every time we played a song, I played every note as loud as I could on my trombone. Auburn got the ball back and eventually scored once again by a run from runningback Ben Tate. Again, images from my experiences at Auburn just flooded through my mind. It was almost indescribable. I started to get chills. My hand was shaking even more. Could it be that I get to experience a win in The Swamp? Could I share an experience with those that witnessed that famous 1994 victory? Florida fought back mightily. Florida scored to tie the game 17-17 near the fourth quarter. My hopes never faded for Auburn. I had had a special feeling about my Tigers all week leading up to the game. We got the ball back and quickly went three and out, giving Florida another chance to score on one last possession. And then something amazing happened. Our defense, which had to have been tired, came out and stopped them in the their tracks. Three and out for Florida. They punt the ball away. A drive, led by Brandon Cox and Ben Tate set up one last attempt for us to kick a field goal to win the game. Our kicker, Wes Byrum, had been doing a good job, but I couldn't help thinking that because he was a freshman he would crack under the pressure of kicking a game-winning field goal. Especially in The Swamp. The field goal unit came on the field, and it felt like time stood still for a while. I had a certain calm come around me, and I remember yelling "I believe!!" The kick went up, and it was good!! The Auburn fans screamed, yelled, went crazy. We then found out that Urban Meyer, Florida's head coach, had called a timeout before the kick. This set up another kick for Byrum to make. Once again, time stood still, and nothing else mattered. I still believed in the Tigers. The kick went up, and went straight through the uprights. It was good, again!! Everybody went crazy, I jumped up and down and pumped my trombone up in the air. My dream had come true- I had just wintessed the Auburn Tigers upset the Florida Gators in The Swamp!
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Monday, September 24, 2007
Social Commentary I: "Still In Rome"
"Still in Rome"
The sweat on his face, the dissonance of his voice, and the message he spoke is still etched into my memory. His message, although deemed invalid by most, spoke volumes more than what he intended it to do. Two years ago, I began my freshman year at Auburn University. I chose to go there because I felt that I needed to explore the world outside of my hometown. I am from Trussville, Alabama, which is comparable to the town of Mayberry in The Andy Griffith Show. The community I grew up in was small and harmonious. Sometimes it felt like people felt safe there because there were no major controversies, no major events, and everybody was happy living their lives without worry.
All these things eventually changed, and life sped up once I entered college. Everyday after class, I would walk over to the dining hall to buy a deli sandwich. On this particular day in the Spring, I spotted a crowd of nearly fifty students gathered close to Cater Lawn across from Foy Student Union. In the past, I had witnessed verbal clashes between the College Republicans and Democrats-- also throw in also the Gay and Lesbian Alliance for good measure. I had seen all of that before. It was all old news to me, and when I saw them arguing it reminded me of programs broadcasted on CNN. This crowd I approached had a single man atop a small brick wall speaking in a harsh voice. At the time, it felt like a guilty pleasure, and it was irresistible to join the commotion.
He called himself “Brother” Micah Armstrong. He dressed in long slacks that were held by suspenders, a long-sleeved dress shirt, and had a worn golf hat on top of his head. At his feet, a gallon jug of water, from which he would take a swig out of every few minutes. I found a friend of mine in the crowd of people, and we both listened closely to his words. He preached a scornful message that was filled with hatred and violence. He would curse the homosexuals, denounce the Jewish, and harass female students that he deemed whores. I thought he was gravely mistaken because the Christian God is a God of love and forgiveness, which was quite the opposite from what he was preaching. I also felt a certain respect for the man because he truly was doing what he felt God led him to do. There are times where I am too nervous to answer a question in class, and in front of me was Armstrong sharing his faith to a disapproving audience.
Throughout his message, I felt like he was telling us that there was absolutely no hope for us from God. Multiple times, he told us we were going to go to hell. It was frustrating because he was smearing Christianity. Inside, I felt a sort of resentment towards the man. I can’t say for sure, but I think it was because of his misinterpretation of the Bible. My emotions were completely divided, and because of this, it made me question if there was any connection between the conflicting feelings. It reminded me of a cartoon I once watched long ago as a child. The character had an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other telling him what choices to make. I certainly feel that way all of the time-- even when I am trying to decide whether or not to eat just one more cookie for lunch. Then it made me think that our emotions are conflicting all the time. It seemed that it is a constant struggle between the heart and the mind.
The crowd cheered, taunted, and laughed in bliss once Brother Micah started speaking about sexual sin. I have always heard how much my generation is obsessed with sex. Being in that crowd reminded me that it is mostly true. Everybody there, whether they were telling the truth or not, admitted in a humorous fashion that they had committed some form of sexual sin. Everybody there seemed to be proud of that fact. I can remember reading a book titled The Scarlet Letter back in high school. The entire book was devoted to a Puritan woman in the 1700s who lived in shame because of sexual sin. She was forced to wear a red “A” which stood for adultery. And then I thought about how moral values have changed over the course of time to present day. People that lived back then were shamed by these sins, and they were usually ostracized by society. I thought about this, and it seemed that while in the crowd, sexual sin is imperative to be “cool.” The old phrase “When in Rome” was dusted off after pondering about the subject.
I watched as he grew thirsty for water. He would take a moment, grab the jug, and take a huge gulp. A student in the crowd approached him, snatched the jug from his hands, and then poured the water onto the ground. Watching that water roll down the concrete made me wonder why this person would hold so much hate for Armstrong. It made me think about how far we will take things when somebody has a different opinion. Brother Micah never did anything to that student except offer his sermon. That man had wronged Brother Micah, but it was refreshing to see another student grab the jug and fill it with fresh water. The crowd had grown to over sixty people by now, and it was comforting knowing there was at least one person willing to have sympathy for him.
Then I felt guilty after watching the student refill his water jug. I think I felt that way because of my participation in the crowd. Moments later, another student stood on the wall next to him and flashed a nude magazine towards the crowd. He said he wanted to start his own church of pornography. Brother Micah did his best to ignore the man, all the while the crowd’s intensity grew. Things seemed to get worse for him once he started explaining how Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. went to hell. The crowd started to verbally abuse him more than ever at this claim. I thought it was ironic that King, who once preached peace, was now being used as fuel for hate.
The assumptions by Brother Micah about Dr. King only reinforced my idea that he was a false prophet. Any Christian would agree that God’s judgment is not something humans can pass. The students behind him started hurling rocks at him as he stood on the wall. One of the rocks struck him in the face as he turned around to talk with them.
If you believe in the Christian doctrine, you will also agree that no man is comparable to Jesus Christ. But watching Micah Armstrong made me realize that he wasn’t being treated any better than Jesus was by the Romans in the final hours of his life. It took me back thousands of years to the days of Rome. I felt like a horrible person. Perhaps I should have been dressed in Roman garments along with everybody else taunting Armstrong. Again, not to say that his suffering was exactly equal to Jesus’, but I think the analogy says a lot about our society.
There finally came a time where I could not stand it anymore. I had to leave the crowd because I didn’t want to continue to be apart of the travesty. There is a passage I learned long ago from the Bible in the chapter of John. Its simple meaning explains, “Be in the world, not of the world.” Although I was silent the whole time I was there, I felt torn. My mind wanted me to stay and witness the chaos outside, but my heart told me otherwise. Maybe I was curious, or maybe it was my human nature to want to ridicule another person for my own pleasure. After I purchased my sandwich at the dining hall, I could still see the circus going on outside. I hung my head, for I was shamed that I participated in the crowd. The most important lesson I learned that day reinforces that old passage in John. I learned that regardless of religious affiliation or opinion, we should be in the world, but not of the world.
The sweat on his face, the dissonance of his voice, and the message he spoke is still etched into my memory. His message, although deemed invalid by most, spoke volumes more than what he intended it to do. Two years ago, I began my freshman year at Auburn University. I chose to go there because I felt that I needed to explore the world outside of my hometown. I am from Trussville, Alabama, which is comparable to the town of Mayberry in The Andy Griffith Show. The community I grew up in was small and harmonious. Sometimes it felt like people felt safe there because there were no major controversies, no major events, and everybody was happy living their lives without worry.
All these things eventually changed, and life sped up once I entered college. Everyday after class, I would walk over to the dining hall to buy a deli sandwich. On this particular day in the Spring, I spotted a crowd of nearly fifty students gathered close to Cater Lawn across from Foy Student Union. In the past, I had witnessed verbal clashes between the College Republicans and Democrats-- also throw in also the Gay and Lesbian Alliance for good measure. I had seen all of that before. It was all old news to me, and when I saw them arguing it reminded me of programs broadcasted on CNN. This crowd I approached had a single man atop a small brick wall speaking in a harsh voice. At the time, it felt like a guilty pleasure, and it was irresistible to join the commotion.
He called himself “Brother” Micah Armstrong. He dressed in long slacks that were held by suspenders, a long-sleeved dress shirt, and had a worn golf hat on top of his head. At his feet, a gallon jug of water, from which he would take a swig out of every few minutes. I found a friend of mine in the crowd of people, and we both listened closely to his words. He preached a scornful message that was filled with hatred and violence. He would curse the homosexuals, denounce the Jewish, and harass female students that he deemed whores. I thought he was gravely mistaken because the Christian God is a God of love and forgiveness, which was quite the opposite from what he was preaching. I also felt a certain respect for the man because he truly was doing what he felt God led him to do. There are times where I am too nervous to answer a question in class, and in front of me was Armstrong sharing his faith to a disapproving audience.
Throughout his message, I felt like he was telling us that there was absolutely no hope for us from God. Multiple times, he told us we were going to go to hell. It was frustrating because he was smearing Christianity. Inside, I felt a sort of resentment towards the man. I can’t say for sure, but I think it was because of his misinterpretation of the Bible. My emotions were completely divided, and because of this, it made me question if there was any connection between the conflicting feelings. It reminded me of a cartoon I once watched long ago as a child. The character had an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other telling him what choices to make. I certainly feel that way all of the time-- even when I am trying to decide whether or not to eat just one more cookie for lunch. Then it made me think that our emotions are conflicting all the time. It seemed that it is a constant struggle between the heart and the mind.
The crowd cheered, taunted, and laughed in bliss once Brother Micah started speaking about sexual sin. I have always heard how much my generation is obsessed with sex. Being in that crowd reminded me that it is mostly true. Everybody there, whether they were telling the truth or not, admitted in a humorous fashion that they had committed some form of sexual sin. Everybody there seemed to be proud of that fact. I can remember reading a book titled The Scarlet Letter back in high school. The entire book was devoted to a Puritan woman in the 1700s who lived in shame because of sexual sin. She was forced to wear a red “A” which stood for adultery. And then I thought about how moral values have changed over the course of time to present day. People that lived back then were shamed by these sins, and they were usually ostracized by society. I thought about this, and it seemed that while in the crowd, sexual sin is imperative to be “cool.” The old phrase “When in Rome” was dusted off after pondering about the subject.
I watched as he grew thirsty for water. He would take a moment, grab the jug, and take a huge gulp. A student in the crowd approached him, snatched the jug from his hands, and then poured the water onto the ground. Watching that water roll down the concrete made me wonder why this person would hold so much hate for Armstrong. It made me think about how far we will take things when somebody has a different opinion. Brother Micah never did anything to that student except offer his sermon. That man had wronged Brother Micah, but it was refreshing to see another student grab the jug and fill it with fresh water. The crowd had grown to over sixty people by now, and it was comforting knowing there was at least one person willing to have sympathy for him.
Then I felt guilty after watching the student refill his water jug. I think I felt that way because of my participation in the crowd. Moments later, another student stood on the wall next to him and flashed a nude magazine towards the crowd. He said he wanted to start his own church of pornography. Brother Micah did his best to ignore the man, all the while the crowd’s intensity grew. Things seemed to get worse for him once he started explaining how Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. went to hell. The crowd started to verbally abuse him more than ever at this claim. I thought it was ironic that King, who once preached peace, was now being used as fuel for hate.
The assumptions by Brother Micah about Dr. King only reinforced my idea that he was a false prophet. Any Christian would agree that God’s judgment is not something humans can pass. The students behind him started hurling rocks at him as he stood on the wall. One of the rocks struck him in the face as he turned around to talk with them.
If you believe in the Christian doctrine, you will also agree that no man is comparable to Jesus Christ. But watching Micah Armstrong made me realize that he wasn’t being treated any better than Jesus was by the Romans in the final hours of his life. It took me back thousands of years to the days of Rome. I felt like a horrible person. Perhaps I should have been dressed in Roman garments along with everybody else taunting Armstrong. Again, not to say that his suffering was exactly equal to Jesus’, but I think the analogy says a lot about our society.
There finally came a time where I could not stand it anymore. I had to leave the crowd because I didn’t want to continue to be apart of the travesty. There is a passage I learned long ago from the Bible in the chapter of John. Its simple meaning explains, “Be in the world, not of the world.” Although I was silent the whole time I was there, I felt torn. My mind wanted me to stay and witness the chaos outside, but my heart told me otherwise. Maybe I was curious, or maybe it was my human nature to want to ridicule another person for my own pleasure. After I purchased my sandwich at the dining hall, I could still see the circus going on outside. I hung my head, for I was shamed that I participated in the crowd. The most important lesson I learned that day reinforces that old passage in John. I learned that regardless of religious affiliation or opinion, we should be in the world, but not of the world.
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