COLUMBIA --- Missouri's new football uniforms were unveiled at halftime of Saturday's Black and Gold game at Faurot Field.
They are sharp. Space-age. Star Trekian with a dash of Lady Gaga and spray paint.
They are all the rage. Talk of the town. People love them.
The three different uniforms give the Tigers something like 712 different uniform combinations.
I have a reversible belt, brown or black.
Years ago, I had a fabulous reversible suit --- jacket and slacks (do they make those anymore?) --- and that gave me four different combinations. Add the reversible belt and, well, the sky was the limit!
Anyway, more people were probably at Saturday's scrimmage to see the new uniforms than were there to watch football.
There was just slightly more football played at Faurot Field than in your average Thanksgiving Day backyard game. But not much.
Flash back/forward ...
Okay, go out, turn left at the bird bath and catch it under the clothesline. If that doesn't work, go to the Buick and run around the right side of it and yell: 'I'm open!' Then catch it for a touchdown! Then we'll have pumpkin pie and see how bad the Lions are losing!
On two ... break!
Perfect play. Then your stupid cousin drops the ball, just on the other side of the Buick.
The defender on the play, uncle Mark, swigs his beer, beats his chest and says: "You can't beat this, boy! I've still got it! Just like I had in Senior High, when I should have been All-City! I was the best doggone football player this side of Muddy Creek!"
He crushes his beer can against his forehead and growls.
"Be right back, boys," uncle Mark says. "I need a cold one."
Belch.
Uncle Mark is wearing blue jeans and a Pabst Blue Ribbon sweatshirt, circa 1979. The sweatshirt has holes and stains dating back to, well, 1979.
Upon further review, your cousin didn't drop it, but uncle Mark actually jumped over the Buick and got a hand on the ball. It was an amazing play.
Aunt Susan video-taped it. She's jumping with glee as she hears the toilet flush, then Mark opens the door.
"What a play, honey!" Susan shrieks as she shows the replay to Mark. "You've still got it!"
"Well, baby," Mark said with a wink. "I never lost it."
Blue jeans, Pabst Blue Ribbon sweatshirt, the play of his life.
Uncle Mark later bulldozed the neighbor's bulldog to make a game-changing tackle, then avoided a running lawnmower --- it even shaved off the tips of his flip-flops --- to make the game-winning interception.
Player. This Bud's for you, Uncle Mark.
It doesn't matter how you look, it matters how you play.
Back to Saturday ... most of my media brethren scurried out of the press box at halftime to get an up-close look at Missouri's new uniforms. There was excitement in the air.
A few other stragglers and I stayed upstairs and complained about the lack of food.
"This is absolutely the pinnacle of my career," Missouri equipment manager Don Barnes was quoted as saying. "I don't know if I can top this."
To me, that's sad. Some people need to get a life. Maybe I should show Don my reversible belt.
But in this case, maybe I need to get a life, for I could care less about the new uniforms. Apparently, I'm in the minority.
I thought the "old" ones, the ones they wore Saturday, were just fine.
I care a lot more about how the Tigers play than how the Tigers look. Alabama has had the same, plain, boring Crimson and White uniforms since the Revolutionary War and they've done okay.
Would the Crimson Tide be better if they went Star Trek/Gaga/spray paint? Doubtful. They could beat most teams wearing blue jeans, sweatshirts and half-gone flip-flops.
Uniforms don't make the difference. Players do.
TV Station Profiles & Public Inspection Files forKRCG