I hereby declare the Cyclone football curse of the Rhoads era to be lifted. I'd like to take this moment to apologize to the fine Cyclone fans that frequent this message board. I take full responsibility for the misfortune and promise to never do it again. Do what you ask?
Well it all happened the day of the Liberty Bowl when I was leaving Silky's O'Sullivans with full beer in tow and I bumped into a big African-American jazz musician, spilling my domestic beer in his Jack Daniels. I fortunately avoided a physical confrontation as this was a giant of a man, but he was pissed. I think he was annoyed before the incident because Beale Street was crowded with Cyclone fans. Not that he had anything against Cyclone fans, but the streets, bars and restaurants were packed to the limit and altering his normal routine. When he saw my Cyclone shirt he waved his hands and muttered something I couldn't make out. The look on his face alone scared the bajeezus out of me. As he walked away I could swear I saw steam coming out his ears.
After making sure I was safe I finished my beer, which by now was warm and had a bitter taste to it. It was not until the second half of the game that I realized what had happened that afternoon. I've been ashamed to admit it until this moment, but I feel it's time to come clean and by doing so, I know the curse is now lifted.
Beat the crap out of Kansas!
Well it all happened the day of the Liberty Bowl when I was leaving Silky's O'Sullivans with full beer in tow and I bumped into a big African-American jazz musician, spilling my domestic beer in his Jack Daniels. I fortunately avoided a physical confrontation as this was a giant of a man, but he was pissed. I think he was annoyed before the incident because Beale Street was crowded with Cyclone fans. Not that he had anything against Cyclone fans, but the streets, bars and restaurants were packed to the limit and altering his normal routine. When he saw my Cyclone shirt he waved his hands and muttered something I couldn't make out. The look on his face alone scared the bajeezus out of me. As he walked away I could swear I saw steam coming out his ears.
After making sure I was safe I finished my beer, which by now was warm and had a bitter taste to it. It was not until the second half of the game that I realized what had happened that afternoon. I've been ashamed to admit it until this moment, but I feel it's time to come clean and by doing so, I know the curse is now lifted.
Beat the crap out of Kansas!
