But for a second I thought I had won us a Pontiac.
The OU center flung the ball over everybody's head. The kick holder ran back and picked up the ball and throwed a pass. If the right OU boy caught it the score could be 8-6. A Texas boy caught it instead.
So the big game wound up in a 6-6 tie. Football coachers say a tie is like kissing your sister. Far as I am concerned, this tie was more like kissing your Uncle Gooch. But I remember my friend Darrell's advice, which I think is what it was, and look on the bright side.
The bright side is we don't have no new Pontiac, but we don't have no farm or no pickup truck either.
We do still have clear title to little Wilmer and the 12-gauge.
So get to packing, honey. I wish I could see your happy face when you leave that old farm for the last time. Lester has got me a job at the quicksilver mine in Terlingua and I will be looking for us a nice house with a view of Mexico.
Enclosed is $160. Lester is kind of strapped right now, so I had to pay our bill at the 40 Winks. No more farm work, hey girl? Our bottle is at least half full.
P.S. Lester showed me his story on the game. It started off: "Under weeping skies, they buried the Wishbone here today." Ain't that pretty?