Confession: I threw something on the field last night.

Nov 3, 2024, 12:42 PM

My heart. Along with 86,000 other tiger fans in Death Valley. I've been a tiger fan longer than most of you have been alive; through the good times, through the bad times, and the very very good times and the very very bad times. And, I don't want to sound too arrogant, but the money my family has donated to Clemson football over the years would be considered elite. But last night, as water bottles rained down, I too symbolically grabbed at my chest, ripped out my heart, and threw it as hard as I could from our seats in TDR right at Dabo's feet. A perfect throw. And, weirdly enough, I think I saw Dabo look down. He must have felt the energy of the moment.

Jimmy, why did you throw your heart at Dabo, you ask? I did it for all the recruits who came out to see the Tiger's play, and instead saw us mess the kitty litter. I threw it for all the children with tears in their eyes as they that punt back. I threw it for all the old men like me who don't have that much time left in this world to watch our fourth kick blocked. For all the Tylers of Spartanburg. For all the transfers who never got a chance. For the D-Rods and the A-Rods. And everybody in between.

I threw it for you, Judge. And you, Francis. And every one of you who ever gave a dollar or darn about our program. I threw it for all of us who have felt like we've gotten a smoke enema these last few years, rather than the straight honest to goodness truth about the so called State of Clemson. Because friends and countrymen, we haven't gotten a LICK of it recently.

I'm tired of it. Sick. Tired. And ornery.

I don't know what has to change (but I have one or two ideas I'll be faxing over to the AD come Monday), but we're paying way too much (you're welcome, Dabo) to continue "The Best is the Standard" status quo that is neither best nor the standard. This program is bigger than one man. It's bigger than three men. It's maybe even bigger than 50. I don't know. I'm ag major not a mathmetician. And how dare we stand idle, and let one man dictate to the rest of us, looking down on high like a Wizard standing atop the oculus, pumping sunshine in the midst of a malestrom.

So Dabo. The ball is on your court (that's a basketball reference, btw). What did you feel when you saw my heart? Are you inspired and ready for change? Yes or no. I'll be waiting.