Sometimes we create our own misery as fans. And anyone who reads this space’s work beyond the picture preview on social media knows I put myself securely inside that group.

We imagine the victory before kickoff, enjoy its emotional rewards—even though we won’t play in the game—and then feel personally robbed when young men playing an actual opponent cannot deliver what we’ve already celebrated.

I had to read that again even after I wrote it—to remind myself about how stupid I have been at times with this stuff.

Not this past weekend, though. Read my article from Friday and you’ll see the approach I took. And it worked. It was maybe the most enjoyable Tiger loss I’ve ever watched where I was actually really rooting hard for them and not checked out during an abomination of a season.

Reactions to my Friday pick on some of the miscellaneous LSU groups were mostly positive, admittedly, but you had your share of know-it-alls. This, in addition to other comments on TigerDroppings, came as no surprise. After the Ole Miss-Louisville game to start the season, most of what I came across was the analysis of fans who think games are played through numbers on a sheet of paper. Some never really learn, or to be fair, maybe some of them are young and just getting started in the sports understanding process.

Too many fans live vicariously through athletes. Some of them never played organized sports, much less college ball, but experience also doesn’t automatically protect anyone from confusing the emotional investment of fandom with any control whatsoever of the game’s outcome.

It’s like those Dr Pepper fan commercials are actually real life.

Consider the sentiment I saw someone write on TigerDroppings that “we” hate Ole Miss so much “we” won’t lose to them again for years. I understand it. I use the term “we” too for ease of conversation. But the limit of sanity is lost when we start coping with a current defeat by swearing to ourselves and the internet that it won’t happen again for a long time. We’re fans, folks merely clapping and yelling at an electronic screen. We won’t be making any tackles and we won’t be hitting any wide-open receivers in the endzone.

Young players making millions of dollars now are expected to do that. And if they don’t, they can have holy hell unleashed on them.

I tried to warn anyone that would listen to me, both in the write-up and in everyday conversations: Statistical rankings and comparisons with Louisville wouldn’t mean a thing—not a single thing—when it came time for that storm LSU was going to enter Saturday night, and that, after a week and after ten months of emotional buildup. Pieces of paper with numbers on them cannot account for young players having to defend against relentless vitriol even before the trip to Oxford, and against an outstanding backfield and talented, playoff-caliber team Kiffin helped build.

And you also had the comparisons of Tiger Stadium and Vaught-Hemingway in terms of capacity, like that was going to make any difference whatsoever in the effect the noise was going to have. Yes, Tiger Stadium seats 40,000 more people, but it’s all relative at a certain point, especially when you’re playing a good team and you’re on your heels unable to stop them.

LSU showed me some really good things I don’t think we would have seen with Brian Kelly. But they also showed me some bad things we might not have seen with Ed Orgeron or Les Miles too. They simply didn’t play consistently enough to win. Still, in the third quarter and much of the fourth, Tiger fans were treated to a level of game control that absolutely can be coached up and multiplied moving forward. With just that quarter-plus alone, they can win plenty of football games this season.

On the tangible level, the offensive line must get better if the quarterback play is to reach any consistency, and Blake Baker must make earlier adjustments before halftime. That alone Saturday night, despite the offensive inconsistencies, may have won the game. Imagine what might have been had LSU been down just 17-7 at the half, before suddenly realizing how to put pressure on Trinidad Chambliss.

Moving Forward

The game is over and it was time to move on from it sometime Sunday afternoon. Let’s hope they let the loss hurt for at least a little while so certain deficiencies and mistakes don’t happen again.

Texas A&M this Saturday night in Death Valley should require no profanity-laced motivational speech.

Last year’s 49–25 humiliation inside that very stadium included Aggie fans taking over LSU’s student section. Brian Kelly was fired the next day, with Scott Woodward following suit shortly afterward. In a roundabout way, Ole Miss can thank A&M for helping trigger the sequence that cost the Rebels their coach—although Kiffin might have left anyway.

Here, fans can contribute—just as Rebel fans contributed Saturday night. Make Tiger Stadium as imposing for the Aggies as Oxford was for LSU. The Tigers should bring that same storm Ole Miss brought to them, while also remembering that opponents make halftime adjustments too. Saturday’s Tiger comeback, although they couldn’t finish, demonstrated how quickly a home team’s control can disappear against a good team.

So let’s not look at the Aggies’ abysmal quarterback play this past Saturday against Kentucky and start winning the game by 50 in our heads before it happens. Remember, this is the same quarterback who got his jumpstart two years ago at home against an LSU team that was firmly in control of that game at 17-7, only to get walloped 31-6 in the second half.

That embarrassment and last year’s embarrassment should be all the reason LSU needs to forget Ole Miss yesterday. If “we” take care of business, the two might very well meet up again later in the season—and with more on the line, and without the Oxford storm.

A 3–1 September, a 3–1 November, and victories everywhere else would put LSU in the CFP. Kentucky and Mississippi State are of course good this year, which complicates such mathematical matters, but eventually against these schedules, a CFP committee will place a three-loss team in. It could happen this year.

Just keep fighting. Just keep spotting the ball.

Kiffin’s emphasis must remain the next drill, the next play, the next assignment, just as it needed to be last week and what we explored in that MIKE CHECK. Consulting Saban about how his 2003 Tigers responded to defeat could prove more useful than even whispering the word “playoff” in the operations building. This is still Kiffin’s first season. The Clemson win didn’t guarantee a playoff berth, any more than it did last year.

Prepare to execute every play, no matter the record, no matter the score.

The money makes patience harder, we understand. That is part of my objection to these ridiculous salaries, because ordinary growing pains become unacceptable in “our” minds. The development of a football team is expected to skip any natural evolution and obey the dictates of dollar symbols, and whether we think it’s fair or not, young players simply aren’t equipped to handle it all well all the time. No one is.

Hence we circle back to the money. It’s stupid, the numbers involved.

Sam Leavitt hasn’t yet become the quarterback “we” expected him to be, but did we just forget about the offensive line that needed to be rebuilt in front of him?

Placed next to his salary, neither has Kiffin’s 2–1 start met expectations.

But the thing we forget is that expensive players and coaches compete against other expensive players and coaches. Everybody won’t get a championship trophy return on investment.

And then you have injuries to take into consideration, which no one except Kiffin, it seems, ever talks about.

Even sustained success will become insufficient in today’s climate and with today’s money. The Buffalo Bills fired Sean McDermott after repeated playoff appearances without reaching the Super Bowl. College programs will eventually walk the same path.

Kiffin could make the playoffs for the next ten years, but if he never wins it all, think of the number of people out there who will laugh at him for “leaving Ole Miss because it’s easier to win national titles at LSU.”

Really, it’s all so silly, and I am so happy the perspective of age is changing me for the better with all of this. I invite you to do the same. Otherwise, we’ll keep dismissing actual fight and progress because it fails to live up to another championship we’ve already won in our heads.

Thank you for reading The Hayride!