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All right, everyone. I didn’t want it to come to this, but you’ve all left me no choice.
As a loyal Bear, I cannot just sit back and watch all of you heartlessly slander my faithful alma mater. Is it wrong? Yes. Do we deserve it? No. Why not? I don’t know, but please stop with all the unrelenting questions, because it’s making me nervous and my body is starting to sweat in places it’s not supposed to.
Oh, how quickly you’ve turned. And after all we’ve been through together, everyone? Really?
I mean, I have brought y’all deep, meaningful commentary on such relevant, worldly issues like nip slips and Auburn quarterback Barrett Trotter’s complex views on the letter Z (he’s not a fan. He knows its tricks.) And this is how you repay me? I’ll remember this next time someone asks me exactly how crazy SEC fans are. My stock answer will change from a benign “tolerably, endearingly crazy” to “OFF THE F-ING CHARTS.” That’s right, you guys. I will tell everyone who will listen that you are all carrying a one-way ticket to Crazytown, with stops only to let Ron “Metta World Peace” Artest and Charlie Sheen aboard. (Gary Busey wanted on too, but y’all weren’t crazy enough to consent to that.)
Is this what you want, everyone? You only have yourselves to blame for this.
A born problem-solver, naturally I resorted to the tactics I typically employ during times of distress: Sending out passive aggressive messages via various social media mediums.
Most recently, I tried defending Baylor in my tweets (i.e. “Why are you guys being so mean?” and “Leave us alone, guys. OR ELSE.”), but strangely that didn’t get the job done. Instead, I was mainly just met with a few Get Over It’s, several HaHaHa’s, and one Y’all Suck The Big One (that one hit me where it hurt).
In your defense, maybe you don’t know any better. Maybe you only know what you’ve been told by a crazy-eyed Aggie, or what you’ve been reading on the Interwebs. In that case, I (mildly) forgive you. But there is no excuse for ignorance, which is why I’ve kindly chosen to enlighten everyone on all the reasons why, contrary to popular belief, Baylor doesn’t suck.
Disclaimer: I am purposely leaving all mention of anything sports related out of this because I’m not an advocate of adding fuel to these vicious fires. Also, because I don’t want any nutcases with inexplicable amounts of free-time typing out stats and scores of games from the last 75 years in a banal attempt to prove me wrong.
But mostly because I am admittedly ill equipped to defend myself against the counterpoints y’all might make regarding any lofty sports claims I throw out there. And you people scare me.
But back to the point. Baylor doesn’t suck because:
1. We are located in the aesthetic goldmine otherwise known as Waco, TX.
If the only thing you associate with Waco is David Koresh, then you are no different than the other 1.7 billion people who also only associate our fine city with a deranged, cracked-out lunatic. BUT, the city of Waco has more to offer—so much more: exquisite tumbleweeds, questionable drinking water that helps build your resistance against parasites, more homeless people than all of Nashville combined (and ours don’t even sell anything), and maybe most important of all, we have George’s.
If you’ve ever been through Waco and not stopped in George’s, take your hand off of your mouse/keyboard right now and punch yourself in the esophagus. After you’ve fully recovered from that (or at least enough to be able to swallow solid food again,) make your way over to George’s and order a chicken fried steak and a “Big O.” If you somehow need even more incentive to frequent this Wacoan mecca, take comfort in the fact that Texas country legend Pat Green insists he still goes to George’s to drink his beer (he even wrote a song about it). After you’ve finished, you can sit out on the George’s patio and compose my hand-written Thank You card while your food digests.
2. We have actual live bears just maxin’ and relaxin’ on our park benches.
What do you have strolling around your campus? Oh, just human beings? I’m sorry to hear that, because at Baylor we have LIVE BEARS waltzing amongst the students throughout the streets. Their names are Judge Joy Reynolds (Joy) and Judge Sue Sloan (Lady), and they are both BGID’s (Bears Getting It Done). They are both grown-ass women, too—Joy weighs 385 lbs and Lady weighs 350 lbs—so don’t try any funny business with them.
(Also, just to reiterate, we have one mascot: the bear. Clear, concise, to the point; no one’s confused about anything here. I’m looking at you, Auburn and Alabama. And Ole Miss…I’m not even sure what’s going on with you over there.)
3. We have a holiday dedicated to drinking.
And it goes by the name of Diadeloso.
Here is the textbook version of Diadeloso at Baylor:
“Every spring since 1934, Baylor takes a Thursday off from classes for a spring holiday which is known as Diadeloso (Spanish for day of the bear). The Baylor University Chamber of Commerce organizes the event which consists of entertainment of all types. Events on campus include: tug-o-war, free food, dog shows, and concerts.”
Binge drinking from sun up to sun down, with a couple of inflatable Moon Bounces, homemade human cannons and accidental trashcan fires sprinkled in along the way.
Sure, at your school this might have been the sort of celebration that occurred on days that end in ‘Y,’ so you might not be impressed. But remember, this is big stuff for a school that’s technically only been allowed to dance for fifteen years. Which brings me to my next point…
4. Anyone at Baylor can out-dance you. Yes, even you.
You know those kids who weren’t ever allowed to eat junk food at home under their parents’ watchful eye? But then when they escaped and came over to your house after school, they went ape shit on your fruit roll-ups? That’s kind of how Baylor was with dancing.
After 151 years of a sad, danceless existence, then-president Robert Sloan Jr. forever changed every hormonally-charged college student’s Saturday night by lifting the ban on dancing in 1996. Sloan still wisely made sure to cover all his bases though with his ominous warning to students against being “obscene or provocative. No pelvic gyrations; no excessive closeness.’” I think he also told everyone that any reenactments of scenes from Dirty Dancing would cause them to contract Chlamydia and die, but I could be wrong about that.
Anyway, due to all that pent-up passionate, primal, sexual energy being suppressed all those years, the Baylor population as a whole let out a collective sigh while also letting their freak flags fly. Years of oppression culminated in every Baylor student being able to pelvic-ly gyrate straight into next Tuesday.
Don’t believe me? Just take myself as a prime example. If any of you has ever been privileged enough to witness my sensual moves, then you will know that at Baylor we don’t play around. (Think “You Got Served” combined with elements of “Step Up 3D.” Except way, way whiter. In fact, I once had someone tell me I was the whitest dancer he had ever laid eyes on. I was right in the middle of my trademark pop-lock-and-drop-it to Salt-N-Pepa’s “Whatta Man,” so I didn’t really care at the time, but looking back, I now realize how it has slowly chipped away at my otherwise uninhibited confidence. I haven’t been able to listen to Salt or Pepa since.)
5. We are not Texas A&M.
JK, JK guys! I’m not going there again. We’ve been there, done that, got the ugly T-shirt. (Now I didn’t say YOU wear ugly T-shirts, Aggies. Calm down. No, everyone knows you wear ugly overalls. Relax.)
But I’m just kidding! Just an innocent, friendly joke to break the ice of what’s going on currently in the sports world. You know, a way to smooth things over. Nice and easy. It’s an old trick I learned back in the day when I used to scream “YOU’RE RUINING MY LIFE” at my parents, then had to pick up the pieces ten minutes later when I needed money for the movies.
It works like a charm. In fact, I bet everyone just had a good, hearty chuckle at my innocent, friendly joke, nodded apologetically at any Baylor alums around them, paid for the guy’s coffee behind them in line at Starbucks, tickled a small child ’til they cracked a smile, then reached down and petted a tiny puppy.
Am I right?
Let me know.