Today is the beginning of the latest OU, Texas weekend.  Both teams are undefeated and anticipation has already reached a fevered pitch here in Oklahoma.  I have never attended an OU-Texas game in Dallas but I have seen OU play many times in Norman, and I well remember one game in particular.

There are many details about that game I can no longer remember (like OU’s opponent and the outcome of the game, etc.) but I remember vividly many of the day’s events.  Lan (an Oklahoma State graduate), Kat (an Oklahoma graduate), Anne (an Oklahoma graduate) and I headed for Norman around nine in the morning.  We steeled ourselves against the early hour with a gallon of bloody Marys, completely consumed before we reached the Norman city limits.

We soon found a parking space and made our way through about a million students and football fans to a bar near the stadium named O’Connell’s.  Hundreds of fans congregated outside the Irish bar, drinking beer and conversing about how we were about to annihilate our opponent.  Lan, Kat, Anne and I joined in.

The game started around 11:30 am and to say that we were drunk by that time wouldn’t be the total truth.  We were snockered, but had sobered up by half time.  OU was so far ahead that half the occupants of the stadium poured out and returned to O’Connell’s.

Lan and Kat married later, as did Anne and I, but none of us were even betrothed at the time – a situation both Lan and I rued before the day ended.  It began when we reached O’Connell’s.

Anne and Kat went inside to use the facilities while Lan and I remained outside to kibbutz with the fans, many of whom we knew, and consume more beer.  It soon became apparent to both Lan and me, despite our alcoholic proclivities that Kat and Anne had been inside O’Connell’s for a lengthy time without rejoining us.  Excusing ourselves from our group of friends, we pushed through the crowded fray blocking the door of the Irish bar. We soon found Anne and Kat.

They were sitting in a booth with a couple of obviously enamored college boys.  Lan and I practically had to start a fight – to the delight of both Kat and Anne – to get them to abandon the two college boys and rejoin us.

We didn’t bother returning to the stadium.  When OU is rolling, no one can beat them, and that’s a fact.  Like many occasions, this particular game was a runaway.  It was getting dark when, feeling somewhat sober, we headed toward Oklahoma City.

We weren’t done yet and decided to have dinner at Junior’s, a restaurant in the basement of the Oil Center Building.  Junior’s is an institution in OKC with its flocked red wallpaper and red carpeting that gives it the look and feel of a French whorehouse.  We ordered strong drinks (that goes without saying at Junior’s!) and a chicken liver appetizer.  After ordering our main course, Lan didn’t make it much longer.

“I’m feeling a little sick,” he said.  “I’m going to lie down in the car.”

Kat, Anne and I ate our dinners – after many more drinks - and had Lan’s packed to go.  Lan slept in the back seat all the way back to his house without awakening, farting every thirty seconds or so along the way.  Despite the gas attack, we all survived and, some twelve hours after leaving home, Anne and I dropped Lan and Kat safely at their house.

We had, amazingly, gotten drunk and sobered up at least three times that day.  Yes, I know driving and drinking is wrong and I don’t do it any more (though it took a little time in County Jail to convince me).  Still, as the OU-Texas weekend approaches, I remember portions of that particular football weekend well and am glad to lie on my sofa and watch OU-Texas on TV.

Eric’s Website