It was Thanksgiving. I was excited, why wouldn’t I be? My family was hosting Thanksgiving, so I didn’t have to go through the effort of driving to a weird Uncle’s house, the house smelled great, I was encouraged to start drinking at 11am by my Mom, and we had a full slate of football ahead of us. Along with that, I had a guaranteed winner of a gamble. I was going all in on Colt McCoy. Spread and money line. Lock it in.
Well, Colt McCoy did the exact opposite of what I thought and while hindsight is 20/20, I still think my thought process back then was even stronger. I think I was seeing in 25/25, some Philip Rivers type shit. Allow me to explain. For starters, despite what the schedule said, this was not an away game for Colt McCoy. Colt McCoy is to Texas what my youngest brother is to my Dad, always so happy to have him home after all the great things he’s done. By comparison, I’m more Case McCoy, but I’ll save that blog for my therapist later. So as far as I was concerned, the most comfortable and crowd-supported quarterback on the field was going to be playing opposite of Dak Prescott. Couldn’t change my mind there. Next was recent history, as far as I could remember, the last time I saw Colt McCoy was 3 years ago against Dallas, on a Monday Night game, that he won. Games like that cannot go understated, or under-districted, considering how Washington D.C. is categorized in this country. Lastly, I’ve always had this belief that Colt McCoy would win a Super Bowl one day. I know, I’m crazy, but hear me out.
I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for Colt. I remember when he burst onto the scene as a Freshman at Texas and it was clear from the start that he was gonna be a great. Because 1) a Texas quarterback, from Texas, named Colt, is a dumb fan’s wet dream. 2) He was clearly where he was due to a psycho-dad that is so stereotypical of Texas Football. He was Mox from Varisty Blues, minus the ability to stand up to his pops.
And if he ever tried, I’m sure he met the same fate as Kevin Ward from Mr. Deeds.
I mean this very honestly, I felt bad. I always do when I see parents like that. That’s why I’ve been protesting Women’s Figure Skating my whole life and am a firm supporter of Tanya Harding. I wanted him to avoid the belt at all costs. So I followed his career very closely. People forget this, but Colt got the job right after Vince Young won a championship for Texas. I can’t imagine how much pressure was on him. Naturally, I feared a 19 year old in that situation had a high chance of failure. Maybe his dad did too, and if so, the belt had to be close. So I made a chart, and It wasn’t looking good.
But, despite my fears, he handled the pressure masterfully, and very quickly made a name for himself as a winner. Things were looking better.
By the end of the regular season of his senior year, he had earned All-America honors twice, every major Quarterback/Offensive player award possible, and earned a spot in the National Championship against a team just finding it’s legs in Alabama. Everything was coming up Colt.
So it’s safe to assume the only time he felt the leather was when he asked his girlfriend for it. However, not all that glimmers is gold, and next thing I knew, this happened.
Everything that he worked for was gone. 5-star freshman Garrett Gilbert went in, blew it (though, he had a solid second half), and the Alabama dynasty, that still exists today, officially began. But worse than all that, that hit didn’t look that hard, and if there’s one thing Colt’s dad didn’t do, it was raise a pussy. I trembled at the thought of what might happen. It wasn’t looking good.
In all seriousness, I felt so bad for him. I still think Texas would have won that game had he stayed healthy. Then he gets drafted by the Browns. The fucking Browns. The same Browns that had just recently ruined the young career of my muse, my flame, Brady Quinn.
So with all this shit coming against him, I always believed it was going to come around. Life is a journey through peaks and valleys and as high as Colt got, I do not think it’s equal to how low he went. Even when things were trending upward in Cleveland, James Harrison took it upon himself to create another valley, using McCoy as his tool to do so.
So maybe I just pity the guy. I do find his career arc unfair, in a way. Or at least as unfair as anyone making millions of dollars for standing around can be. Regardless, I always believed that Colt hadn’t yet hit his peak. He got so screwed over by fate that fate owed him one. I think a Super Bowl ring would suffice. But, now and forever, November 22nd, 2018 will be the day that I realized Colt McCoy would never.