None of this improves as the kids get older. High school football in the South is so intense a whole TV series was crafted after it starring dreamy Taylor Kitsch as Tim Riggins, which promptly put me into Thought Prison, because I wasn’t sure if I should be his girlfriend or his mother. Anyhow, Clear Eyes, Full Hearts, Can’t Lose is basically the southern mantra, and Friday Night Lights just made it public. Now you know our old men sit in coffee shops and discuss ways to torment new coaches and underperforming athletic directors.
In the past decade, more than 50 percent of the top draft picks in the NFL were southern high school boys who had attended sleep-away quarterback camps since they were in fifth grade. There never has been and never will be any of that “we’re all winners” crap down here. Pretty sure “participation trophies” are melted down and refashioned into a statue of Denzel Washington’s character from Remember the Titans. In top divisions, highly ranked high school players are recruited and moved into elite school districts to secure state championships, and this is why the South is the most ridiculous region in these United States of America.
All this really just sets the stage for the Big Enchilada: college football. If you haven’t seen a grown man wear a Mississippi State T-shirt to a business meeting with zero self-consciousness, then you must live in Alaska or New Hampshire, or somewhere people don’t wear university gear as business casual attire though they graduated from college twenty-seven years ago. After all, receiving your college diploma is really just the start of your Adult Allegiance Program; there are rules, clubs, specialty bars, lingo, gear, handshakes, donor funds, loyalty programs, alumni meet-ups, and a deep well of hostility toward rivals the rest of your living life.
All our children learned “The Eyes of Texas” as part of their public school kindergarten curriculum. My friend Becky’s daughter—from a dyed-in-the-wool Texas A&M family—came home from kindergarten hysterically crying after the UT song indoctrination: “Daddy is going to be so mad at me!” My friend Jenny’s dad had a bona fide low-grade heart attack during a University of Alabama playoff game. Not one but eight of my friends named their children and pets after college stadiums. We scheduled an anniversary trip to Europe around a Longhorn away game.
I’m just saying we probably all need some psychoanalysis.
The obvious irony is that after all this hysteria, almost none of our sons will actually play college football, much less secure a spot in the NFL. (I knew we should have started him in first grade instead of third!) Sure, only 6.5 percent of high school athletes will play college football, and only 1.5 percent of college players will move on to the pros, but we pray before our public school games, so we’re playing with the Lord’s favor, and I’m pretty sure the Savior wants my son to receive a full ride for his outstanding performance as tight end.
Anyhow, it mostly boils down to a bunch of middle-aged people wearing school colors and cheering for the team they’ve loved since 1989. The end game for most of us is perfecting our tailgate parties. (Brandon and I built a huge porch on our old house last year, and upon seeing it, 100 percent of our friends said, “This is perfect for watching football.” Obviously. Why even have a porch if there is no TV on it for playoffs? We’re not amateurs.)
So for all my fellow football lunatics, here are a couple of no-fail recipes for your watch parties or tailgate crews. And listen, no one said football food was supposed to be healthy, okay? It is simply understood that game day recipes can involve a disproportionate amount of mayonnaise, cheese, red meat, or TTAF (things that are fried). Don’t hate the playa, hate the game.
BUFFALO CHICKEN DIP
My girlfriend Tonya first introduced me to this winner, and I have never had an ounce of leftovers. Not even enough for one bloomin’ chip. It is so easy, I don’t even know if we can call it a recipe, but you know what we can call it? A PARTY IN OUR MOUTHS.
1 (8-ounce) block cream cheese, softened
3 cups cooked, shredded chicken (I always buy the grocery store rotisserie bird)
1 cup buffalo wing sauce (any kind you like)
1 cup blue cheese dressing*
1 (8-ounce) tub blue cheese crumbles (if you’re scared, use Cheddar, but COME ON, BRO)
Options for dippers: chips, crackers, celery sticks, crostini, slider rolls, whatever man.
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Spread the softened cream cheese in the bottom of a square baking dish. In a bowl, mix the shredded chicken with the wing sauce and blue cheese dressing until completely coated. Spread the chicken mixture evenly on top of the cream cheese. Top with the blue cheese crumbles. Warm through for around ten minutes (you don’t want to cook this too long because the cream cheese gets melted and runny, and that is no way to live).
Pile up any dipper you want.
This is spicy and creamy, and it literally got me through the 2010 National Championship game when Colt McCoy got injured on the fifth play and we handed off our dreams to a freshman quarterback who had ridden the pine since August. The only winner that day was the buffalo dip, my friends.
* If you hate blue cheese, you can substitute ranch dressing here, but in that case, perhaps you should give this recipe a new name because the only thing worse than serving your friends something called “Buffalo Chicken Dip” without blue cheese is stocking your cooler with O’Doul’s. It’s un-American.
BACON-WRAPPED STUFFED DATES
I cannot even with these. I cannot even, and I cannot odd. I actually think these are a sin. I’m sorry, Lord, but I need these in my mouth. And may I bless with heavenly blessings the first pioneer who decided to make cheese out of a mama goat’s lactation. The following quantities make about a pan full, but by all means, double this bad boy if you’re feeding a big crew.
1-pound tub pitted dates
1-pound package bacon, cut in half or thirds (not thick-cut bacon)
4-ounce log fresh goat cheese or cream cheese 6 ounces roasted almonds
Balsamic reduction*
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Use a paring knife to make a slit on one side of each date, but don’t cut all the way through. Pitted dates are kind of hollow inside, because they obviously want to be filled with almonds and goat cheese. If your dates have the pits inside, just remove them after you cut the slits. It is their culinary destiny. Fill each date with a bit of goat cheese and one almond, close it, and wrap the whole thing with half a strip of bacon. Place on a baking sheet seam down (don’t crowd the pan), and bake for 20 to 30 minutes until the bacon is nice and brown.