God looked down on a sliver of East Texas and said, "I need a caretaker." So God made a farmer.
God said, "I need somebody with the spirit to yell at midnight, wake at dawn, man the smoker, stand for 2 quarters, win halftime, stand for 2 more, go to Northgate and stay until he runs out of time." So God made a farmer.
"I need somebody to pump sunshine from sewage and bang a pot when winning isn't good enough. Someone to work the stack and pass it back, to believe in Olsen Magic. Someone to gig 'em and saw 'em off, with the guts to win in T-Town but the grace to rescue a wayward kitten. Somebody with a rough tough quality and a real stuff girlfriend." So God made a farmer.
God said, "I need somebody willing to stick with a program through lean years with fat coaches. Somebody to grow first-half dreams and let them die then roll his eyes and say, 'Maybe next year.' I need somebody who can make an 11-win Heisman quarterback from a 3-star safety. Someone who can bevel a 'T' with a buck knife and raise a hate barn out of piss-stained concrete." So God made a farmer.
God said, "I need somebody who will travel 800 miles to watch a football game and a bit farther to crack beers with an old friend. Someone who will drop a penny for good luck or 10,000 when someone else is down on his. Someone to answer 'Here' when that old friend's name is softly called at Muster." So God made a farmer.
God had to have somebody willing to ride out the storm with the Joneses and yet stop when the clouds parted to look over his shoulder and say, 'This is SEC country. We are the Joneses.' So God made a farmer.
Still waiting on the Waffle House.