Sore Winner: A Second (Hate) Letter To Oklahoma State
"I have come here to chew bubblegum and kick ass. And I'm all out of bubblegum."
--"Rowdy" Roddy Piper
Pukes,
I write this as a necessary correction to my prior "dear opponent" letter, knowing no better, in referring to our relationship as a "relatively friendly rivalry." I even went so far as to suggest we kind of liked you.
Boy, was I ever wrong.
Consider me a poor judge of character.
As has been discussed widely on social media, and was experienced by a good number of the Horned Frog crowd, you had the temerity to engage in your stupid, onanistic (look it up, philistines!) chants during an injury timeout.
Twice.
One of the Frog faithful online accurately called you "trash people." Another used a four-letter expletive (look it up!) I will not record here for the fear it may give people such as you encouragement.
The stupid have never been inclined to irony.
The first time, I was inclined toward forgiveness. It was quite possible, I reasoned, you were simply unaware a man was down and had given yourselves to the momentum and spirit of the game, however tactlessly. Understandable. Gross. But none of us is perfect.
Then you did it again.
So, on behalf of all of Frogdom, I'd like to say, in no uncertain terms, with no equivocation (look it up!): you suck. And you blow. You suck and blow at the same time; you should try your collective hands at the saxophone because you would have the technique of circular breathing down in no time. You'd run Kenny G right out of business. And probably find a way to play worse music.
The last ten minutes of that game must have been excruciating. I hope they were. You see, you are reading the words of a man who has openly advocated the direct targeting of opposing quarterbacks as a wise winning strategy--and I have suggested any and all means shy of shooting them. But consider this: I am a satirist, it's my job occasionally to be funny, and further, I proclaim myself an idiot when it comes to all things sports-related. And relative to that, my being an idiot and a satirist, in the depths of my most sadistic inclinations, I would never have considered, no not even dreamed, of engaging in a chant when a player for the other team was injured.
So, I am a clown, and in the service of jokes could not conceive of one as malicious as you yourselves proved to be.
I hope you have a very quiet, sad ride back home to Oklahoma, where you belong. Unfortunately, judging by the orange shirts that populated Joe T's following the game, shame, self-reflection, introspection and basic decency seem as foreign to your nature as the magnanimity (look it up!) you failed to exhibit while winning. Please allow me the joy of gloating one more time that we kicked your ass.
I believe my exact words when the family sat to dinner were: "As obnoxious as they are after a loss, could you imagine what they would have been like had they won?"
To which I received a quiet nod from the father.
Consider this a giant middle-finger. And best of luck with that stupid mascot of yours that looks like he was drawn from a finger painting of America's Most Wanted—Sex Offenders Edition.
Good riddance.
With Contempt!
Tyler Mother-Lovin Brown
P.S., I hope you lose to every team in the Big 12; you are only allowed to beat Baylor and UT, and frankly, even with them, it's a coin toss. I'll be waiting for that $10,000,000 you owe me.
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