We are sitting at 4-1, about to be 5-1. And minus the first half stagefright in Baton Rouge we look like a team that forgot last season. And it's coaching.
The second half of this season is shaping up to be more interesting than any of us thought because those teams that we assumed were almost certain loses aren't and those teams we thought were almost gimme wins or at worst a coin toss aren't either.
A good UGA team went to Knoxville expecting to take a shit in UT's yard and narrowly escaped with a win. This sort of represents to me how tough the rest of the season will play out because we need to be game ready when the starter gets his bell rung or comes up limping. If we aren't so ready then the coaches have to lean on another area that might play to the other teams strongsuit OR a veteran (like Aaron Murray) has to make a play JUST TO PUT YOU IN POSITION FOR A CHANCE to win.
To me, Nick Marshall is the man... our QB, Auburn's QB. Jeremy Johnson is ahighschoolphenomthat battledtoothandnailinthefallwithnickmarshallforthestartingjobblahblahblah!!!!
HE HAS NO GAME EXPERIENCE!
SO, JJ has to get some non-practice reps under his belt and what better way to showcase ones ability than in front of a festive and delightful homecoming crowd (not exactly Kyle Field where you can't score enough, Fayetteville, where better Auburn teams have gone to wilt, or Knoxville, scene of the aforementioned dramatic escape by injury riddled UGA.)
IF, Nick Marshall is injured he should not play.
IF Nick Marshall is hurt he could play but why would we risk it?
I turn 55 Monday and could lead Auburn to victory today at QB. It would be a great feat personally being as I am a rickety, demanding, oft depressed yet deceivingly jolly, beer swilling, no luck, far sighted, stone deaf, slow yet remarkably clumsy old sonofabitch with a long history of concussions (soft headed) and a right arm that's good for about two warm-up tosses before a nerve shrieks in horror and bone grinds to a screeching, roundedoffratchetlike finish. Ok maybe I'm better suited as a Wildcat not really knowing the playbook and whatnot. Not to mention (yet will anyway) I used up all of my eligimobility over three decades ago.
But I'm gamely.
In grammar school we were encouraged to attempt to play a musical instrument and I chose the trumpet. So I went to practice (football) each day and played some scales now and then until finally each of us were instructed to learn a tune for a recital in front of parents, relatives and anyone else that felt a strange need to be there. Well that day came and the auditorium was packed and the room became suffocating hot.
Our little concert began and I was more than happy to not be heard missing rehearsed notes and after several selections each section performed as a unit before the actual solos took place.
And about two intervals before my time would come a sense of impending doom-the scared out of one's wits type with all of the accompanying symptoms took hold. And I remember how fearful it was waiting for each portion to be completed edging ever so close to my own solo which was Go Tell Aunt Roadie although at that precise time I probably couldn't even remember the name of the song I was to play.
And then it happened. I was up (jmar) second trumpet.
Whew!
And I never picked that trumpet up again except to carry it back to the band room when the concert abruptly ended.
Hmmm. Wonder what happened to jmar???
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