By now you’ve learned that Chancellor John Sharp gifted a national championship to Jimbo Fisher. FROM THE FUTURE.
Naturally, the internet is doing what it does and ripping the hell out of this brazen attempt at... humour? SETTING EXPECTATIONS? Point is, a large ego-ed Aggie suit haphazardly shined a spotlight up his own ass yet again and is getting dragged.
GBH likes to roast things. If you’re new here, welcome! This pirate ship refuses to be a vessel in some larger SUPER SERIOUS groupthink armada that too frequently encompasses many passionate fan bases. We celebrate the Good Bull and call out the shit bull. So yeah - we roast:
Here’s the real deal honest truth - GBH LOVES Texas A&M. Loves loves loves Texas A&M. Contrary to our many HATERZ we are not GOD FORSAKEN LIBERAL TEA SIPS. We’re GOD FORSAKEN LIBERAL* AGGIES. We roast because we love.
*Only a handful. You can guess who. Chill out, Theodore Cruz.
Every man needs buddies that will roast his ass. Each of us needs that core group of chums that will ruthlessly hammer you when you do something stupid. This hammering is a display of LOVE and I contend that our Chancellor is lacking a hammering wolf pack of broskis. You need your pals to keep you in your lane. EXAMPLES:
- “Hey Dave Matthews, it’s 2010. Time to hang up the puka shells and hemp necklaces.”
- “Take off those goddamn Timberland boots.”
- “Is that a scarf? You’re at an MLS game in Texas. It’s 90 degrees.”
- “Sure, she’s a pretty girl, but you asked me if I thought you should date her and I said I don’t think you want to be a parole officer. She has an ankle bracelet, bro.”
- “Turn off Big Bang Theory, carrot top.”
- “You know how folksy old cowboys call the fat one ‘Slim’ or the short one ‘Stretch’? Well now we know why they call John ‘Sharp’.”
You get the idea. If you’re being roasted, you’re being loved. I once tried to pull off this Native American bracelet thing like I was Ray Wylie Hubbard. Spoiler - I am NOT cool enough for exotic jewelry. My buddies put me in a bodybag for that behavior.
To full embrace roasting love, you need three things:
- A savage wolf pack of friends that will be relentless if you do something douchey like buy a flashy watch or get deeply spiritual with a vegan lifestyle
- To stop taking yourself so damn seriously. Especially you recruiting creeps.
- At least a gnat’s thimble of self-awareness.
I DECREE THAT THE JIMMY GARDS FUTURE FUNERAL BE ONE GIANT ROAST. Allow this to be my testament. When I die, I don’t want sap, condolences, and flowers at the funeral. I want the event to have three things:
- Amazing Grace played on the bagpipes by somber olde drunk Scotsmen.
- An open bar with this menu: Budweiser, Jameson, Johnny Walker Black, Guinness, boxed wine for the fillies and kids, and Marlboros. That is it. No craft beer. Nothing fancy. The aforementioned olde drunk Scotsmen (ODS) will tend bar.
- A SAVAGE roast of ME. Put all the sweet stuff in a note for my kids. I want the funeral to be a raucous affair where everyone cracks wise at my expense.
Here’s some low hanging fruit, scamps:
- I have red hair
- I get sunburned by the damn moon
- My nickname on the college hockey team was Boner. That’s it.
- I WAS the best drinker and worst drinker you ever knew - sometimes in the same night.
- I really should swim with a t-shirt on at the pool
- I do yoga
- I once ran into a barbed wire fence wearing nothing
ROAST ME IN REMEMBRANCE THEN LIGHT MY PINE BOX ABLAZE AND PUSH INTO THE GULF WHILE SKYNYRD “TUESDAY’S GONE” PLAYS. RIP IN PEACE, JIMMYGARDS.
BACK TO THE TASK AT HAND. Here is what is so grating about the A&M brass - they are a caricature of the worst Texan stereotypes this great state carries. WOOOOO MONEY BY GOD. WE DON’T NEED DEM SIPS HA! HEY HEY HEY JIMBO HEY! HERE’S YOUR NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP HAHAHHAHAHA. LET’S GO SHOOT SHIT FROM THE HELICOPTER - WE’LL EXPENSE IT TO THE SCHOOL YOW!
I really like the Jimbo Fisher hire and I think he will find success here. My request to our suits and football program is this - just shut the hell up and get to work. I know I sound like an olde hard ass, but we just got done with six years of #WRTS, SWAG, IT’S ABOUT US, and countless instances of our Board of Regents acting like rich children. It all petered out with an inspired loss to Wake Forest. Knock it off with all the jokes (really not your core competency), the Justin Bieber shit, and acting like we’ve accomplished anything.
Less preening, more laughing at yourself, and show some love through the roasts.