I read an interesting quote from Will Levis recently.  Will is the former University of Kentucky quarterback who many think will be a high first round draft pick in tonight’s NFL Draft.

Levis made a statement, I paraphrase, that indicates his confidence by saying he has as strong an arm as anyone in the NFL.  Big words.  But this is nothing we haven’t seen or read before.  In the 1983 Sports Illustrated College Football Preview, those were always nice back then, one Dan Marino said he could throw better than anyone in college and he could throw with anyone in the pros.  That paraphrase is much more accurate than the one about Levis.  What can I say?  The Marino story came 40 years ago.  NFL football meant just a little more to me then than it does now.  Remember, Ken Anderson was still playing for the Cincinnati Bengals in 1983.

In 1964 this was the NFL Draft.  Doesn’t she look darling?

Where they are having the NFL Draft tonight in Kansas CIty, there will probably be more people in the bathroom between the 11th and 12th pick compared to what we see in this photo.

Will Levis?  Will Levis is a big fan of Will Levis.  I have always been a fan of you too, Will.  I just hope your interest in your arm goes beyond a three foot radius around.  I hope you will be a good teammate, Will.  My hope is that you will be chosen by the Indianapolis Colts.  I read that Peyton Manning gave you props.  Were those smoke signals?  Or did he attach a note to a horseshoe and throw it through Jim Irsay’s office window.  That would not be cool.  Don’t want to risk damaging a guitar.

No.  I don’t think the Colts will choose Will Levis.

No, this is not Will Levis.  This is Arch Manning.  I read today that Arch Manning will forego any monetary gain college players are raking in these days with Name Image and Likeness deals until he is named the starting quarterback.  That whole NIL mess is another post entirely, providing there are enough ROLAIDS at the ready.

I don’t think Arch is going to miss a meal.  This edict does have a 180 degrees about it though, if you want to look at it closely.  Seems folks bet on everything these days.  Do you think Vegas has and OVER/UNDER on how many teams Arch will play for in college before he declares for the draft?

Oh yes, the Manning Brothers and the NFL Draft Drama.  

When Peyton came out of Tennessee and landed in Indy there were those who thought Ryan Leaf was the one who got away.

It worked out.

When Eli was drafted out of Ole MIss he let it be known he was not going to play for the San Diego Chargers.  Spoiled brat power play?  Only if you want to think so.  I think otherwise.  All of a sudden you can’t make a business decision in the big business world of pro football?  I think otherwise.

It worked out.

It’s popcorn time!

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

The last entry I made on this space was February 1st.  More than two months have passed since I spoke the rights.  That is too many sunsets on one website.

The last time here I was lamenting the loss of a youngster I knew a long time ago.  I didn’t expect that the distance that goes along with losing someone from your past would also find me distancing myself from my keyboard here.  Too much unspoken feeling will do that I suppose.  I am sure of it.

Since then much has gone on.  Most of it wonderful stuff.

My Brad McCammon Tribute.  I was offering my glasses to the refs at a college basketball game. I saw Brad pull this when he was coaching a sectional basketball game at Orleans many years ago.  This was the first college basketball game I have ever witnessed in person in my life.  The guy who has been to college football stadiums from sea to shining sea and seen more than half of the FBS teams play in person was finally watching a college basketball game.  Making a promise will do that to a fella.

It was late January 2019.  In the Brownstown Central High School Gym BC’ers affectionately call “The Pit” I watched the North Harrison Lady Cats beat the Lady Braves (or Squaws to some politically correct-Americans).  On this night I promised then senior Lilly Hatton I would watch one of her Wofford games when she was playing in college.

Fast forward to her senior year and I am running out of time.  Life goes on.  But on February 18, 2023 in Chattanooga, my dear wife, Carrie, and I were there to watch the visiting Wofford Terriers defeat the UT-Chattanooga Mocs.  Watching Lilly was a thrill.

It was a great night.  In Lilly’s senior year at Wofford, the team won more games in a season than it ever had before.  22-10 was their final record.  They won the Southern Conference Championship in the regular season and were bested in the conference tourney final by the same UT-Chattanooga team.

One week later, Carrie and I were back in Tennessee.  This time in Nashville at the Vanderbilt Medical Center to see granddaughter Penelope Ann being brought into the world.  Our son Cody and his wife, Paola, did good.

I kid you not.  Penelope was only a few hours old when I took this picture.  She got here ready.

And you better know Grandma is having a good time.

This was taken this week.

I must say I am having a good time too.  

Penelope and I were watching Indy Car Racing from Texas today.  She lost interest when her driver, Sato, hit the wall.  So did she.  I had to relive the finish for her and how Josef Newgarden won under caution with less than two laps to go.

It hasn’t been all good recently.

I found this in an Albany (NY) newspaper last June.  Besides looking at it a few times and shaking my head, I have never shared it before.  That changed when another school shooting, this time Nashville, was realized.  This says a great deal to me.  Unfortunately, I am not as influential as I wish I was.  Strange when I get into a gun debate no one wants to talk sense.  They don’t seem to listen.  They don’t care.  They don’t care that I think owning a gun is fine.  And I have seen on social media comparisons to rocks and guns.  I have yet to see a rock that could destroy a 7-Eleven in 8 seconds.  Talk about stupidity.  But that seems to be the cup of the day.

God help us.

On another good note…

This guy has already mowed his yard this year.

One more good note…

I was so impressed with an interview that Coach K gave to Chris Wallace recently, I sent a note to Coach K letting him know it.  As usual, I mentioned some things I appreciated and expounded a little.  Thankfully, he kept reading.  The man sent a letter addressed to the Students of North Harrison High School.  The letter will be framed and placed in the school library.  At least I know Coach K is listening.

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

Leave it the Louisville Courier-Journal to leave me with a silent scream on my face.  

I have a newspaper archive account.  I used it tonight to look up a line score from a high school football game played 30 years ago come this October 2nd in the October 3rd edition of The Courier-Journal.

There was a time (a long time ago) when I was in exile from North Harrison.  1993 was one of those years.  Fortunately, I did find a football team that wanted my coaching assistance.  Unfortunately, it was the Corydon Central Panthers.  I didn’t care then.  I just knew I needed to be helping out punters and kickers, not to mention I was the sole JV coach for two years and we had a blast.

The 1992 game Corydon Central played against North Harrison was a classic memory for me.  The score was tied 0-0 at the half.  North had the ball early in the third quarter.  Billy Powell intercepted a pass for the Panthers and took it to the house.  6-0 Corydon Central.  Our sideline erupted like no other high school sideline ever did.  I was on the ground turning circles like Curly of The Three Stooges.  Players were rolling around on the field.  It was mayhem!  Not that goofy guy on those stupid insurance commercials.  This was real.

The ref saw enough.  He threw a flag on the bench for holding up the game under the aegis of “unsportsmanlike conduct” and there was no way I could be happier!  That meant our kicker was going to put up an extra-point from 35 yards away and not 20 as is the custom.  My kicker nailed it with PLENTY of room to spare.  I think I was on the ground again.  Corydon Central won 21-0 and that was the first shutout in The Big Cat Classic since the 1985 North Harrison team won 23-0.  I kicked a field goal in that game for North Harrison.

Jason Becker was the kicker for Corydon Central that night.  The next season in a game at West Washington, Jason kicked a 47 yard field goal that was clearing the uprights when it went through.  It was amazing.  I can still see that kick more clearly in my mind than any ball I ever put through under the Friday Night Lights.  I only wish he had the chance to connect on more.

The Courier-Journal had the kick 34 yards in its box score.  I went to the Bedford Times-Mail and found the correct distance.  It was as I remembered it.  I saw it happen.  I still see it today.

When you coach, players come in and out of your life.  Some years ago I ran into Jason Becker.  We laughed and relived some of the old stories.  Vowed we would get together.  You know how that goes.

I was taken aback a couple weeks ago when I was running down the obituary column of The Courier-Journal.  Jason Becker passed away suddenly on January 16, 2023.  He was 46.

On Saturday, January 21, Carrie and I went to the funeral home in Corydon to pay our respects.  On the way to the funeral home I was talking to Carrie about how Jason and I practiced.  I was still a young man and I led by example.  “Match that!”  That is what I would exclaim when we were swinging our legs together.  I told Carrie about the long snapper, Virgil Smith.  He was harder on himself than I ever was.  Couldn’t tell you the last time I saw Virgil.

Back then those guys called me Coach Moody.  My affinity for The Moody Blues was not lost on them.  I didn’t ask for it.  But Buck Hauswald, during warm-ups, often yelled out “Moody Bluedy!”  Buck is gone too.  Lord he was a great guy.

When I signed the guest book at the funeral home, I saw the signature of Virgil Smith.  I couldn’t help but smile.

It wasn’t always easy, but we sure had fun.  I have memories with these boys I would never trade for anything if we could go back.

Have I told you I am a blessed guy?  I am.

Speaking the rights.

Danny Johnson

When I feel the world closing in on me, I write something.

My world is not closing in on me.  But I know some folks who have been going through exactly that.  Best I can tell you is they have handled it with a grace that is only admired by most of us.

Oh my.  There is so much conflict within me when I look at this photo.  Letters put together last school year when we learned that our North Harrison colleague, Andy Pavey, was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.

On a lovely Spring day last year, we gathered for a WALK that was dedicated to Andy.  I was proud to be there.

Those who know me know full well I am usually not at a loss for words.  Some probably wish I was at a loss for words more often.

This is so hard.

Andy Pavey was that positive fabric that could walk into any room and make it a better place.  Most of us dream of doing that.  Andy was that.

I ran into Andy at an Indiana University Football game in Bloomington this past fall.  That was the best moment for me all football season.  I didn’t expect to see him. When I did see him there, everything else stopped.  I wish I had taken a photo of the two of us there talking IU football.

Andy Pavey’s fight with pancreatic cancer ended on January 21, 2023.  To say he will be missed is only a thimble of this loss.

That conflict I have looking at this?  I am just glad that the place that has never gotten around to honoring anyone by naming a facility or a road or a calculator drawer after any of the venerable legends that have worked for the greater good of North Harrison finally got it right.  They got it right for ANDY.  Lets hope these letters hang around for a while.  They mean so much to so many.

Andy, your kids were in school every day this week.  I was proud of them for walking into my classroom.  I left them alone.  It was best.  You’d be proud.  Thank you.

Danny Johnson

Written as I listen to John Wetton’s  Arkangel album.  

John Wetton was a great singer.  He played bass and sang in many groups.  U.K. was one.  King Crimson was one.  Uriah Heep was one.  The big one though was ASIA where he teamed up with Carl Palmer (ELP), Steve Howe (YES), and Geoff Downes (YES and The Buggles).  ASIA was called a SUPERGROUP.   They were too.  But that didn’t mean the songs wrote themselves.  From the outside looking in, music is just made.  On the inside, making music is something that is worked for.  John Wetton died of colon cancer in 2017.  His last edict to the male fandom was to make sure to get your “guts and nuts” checked out.  He admittedly failed to do that.  Next to Justin Hayward, this guy is my next favorite singer.  There is something in his voice I understand.

Changing the subject…

I did everything I was supposed to.  I have been more careful than most I think.  When the whole Covid scare got here, I was like the rest of us.  I was still more than I am used to being still.  I got my vaccinations.  My dear wife, Carrie, and I volunteered our time at the local Covid Shot Clinic.  I wiped down chairs inside.  Outside, I checked on folks in their vehicles and made sure they were okay after fifteen minutes to make sure they were ready to drive on into the night.

I got every booster known to man.  It is a good thing.

When all this Covid business began I was scared.  My lungs have never been my friend.  We fight more than we get along.  That has been my life.  They took away a football season when I was in the 7th grade.  I fought them tooth and nail as a freshman with an inhaler tucked in my sock at all times.  It was awful.

When this Covid business began I figured I wouldn’t have a chance if it found me.

This past Monday, it found me.

I was walking upstairs at school.  I noticed my legs betraying me after walking as many flights of stairs North Harrison High School can offer.  Then I felt a bit awkward as I walked on.  Something was not right.  This was different.  I know my respiratory system better than it knows me.  I pay attention.  This was different. I looked at my fancy watch and saw heart rate numbers I had never seen walking up the steepest hills behind the house.

That was when I procured a Covid test from the school nurse office.  I didn’t wait long.  A positive response presented itself in a hurry.

So how has it been?  Being home all week since Monday?  

It has been long.  I have been introduced to a sense of worthlessness I have never know before.  Only late this afternoon have I felt like doing anything at all.

Each morning I made myself come downstairs and log on to my computer to send my lesson plans to my students.  Then I went back to bed.  This was not fun.  Not being there is a chore all its own.  A creature of habit is typing these words.  When I am away from that, I am not good.  I miss the students more than they miss me I am sure.

A funny thing happened on the way to Georgia’s butt-whipping.

On Saturday, January 7th, ESPN was running a story about the TCU Horned Frogs.

In earnest, I was busy looking at school work when I looked up and saw this screen.  I had to take a photo of it.  I was beyond sad to, for the first time in my life, see the word “franchise” in reference to a COLLEGE football team.  

I went ballistic.

I put on a Facebook post and a tweet that included the photo above and said the following:

Reflections of light out the door and out the window, just like college football. Schools are now deemed franchises? Keith Jackson had it right talking to Fowler and Herbie the last time Keith saw a Rose Bowl and said “too much coverage” of what was college football’s demise. ( This was a refence to the last time Keith Jackson was in the booth at The Rose Bowl in January of 2017 and lined these boys out.)

The tweet I sent I tagged to Paul Finebaum, ESPN, Chris Fowler, and old reliable, Tim Brando.  Brando and some other media folk retweeted it.  I can only believe that word got out regarding a college team as a franchise.

When Max Duggan was stepping behind center on the games first play from scrimmage, ESPN color commentator Kirk Herbstreit said: “Duggan is the face of the fran…uh..of of the offense.”  Herbstreit fumbled.

I just sat there and smiled.  Sometimes things really do work out.

If I survive this Covid thing, and I think I will, we will keep having a good time.

Speaking the rights.

Danny Johnson

The calendar was kind this year.

Usually I am ready to cuss when January 1 falls on a Sunday.  I know what that means. The Rose Bowl will be played on January 2nd.  It has always been that way.  God Bless the folks in Pasadena.  They exclaimed “Never on a Sunday” so many years ago.

Me, I was glad it was another day to hang on to The Rose Bowl as we know it.  And I was glad it was a Big Ten team, Penn State winning over Utah, to win the final Rose Bowl as we have known it.

When I was on The Rose Bowl turf in 2018, I never imagined we would be here.  All I could think about was PAC-12 v. Big Ten in perpetuity.  That is all I have ever known.

I can’t tell you how emotional I was knowing this was the LAST Rose Bowl as I know it.

Next year the Rose Bowl will be one of the College Football Playoff Semi-Final Games.  That means no guarantee of a Big 12-Big Ten matchup.  In 2024, The Rose Bowl will be a part of an extended College Football Playoff and who knows will be playing in the Faux Rose Bowl.

But, I can forever say I was there in the best of times when The Rose Bowl was still real.

Will Schnell was the Rose Bowl Superintendent in 2018.  Will and I talked about the history of The Rose Bowl.  He did not know me before this day.  He grabbed my arm and told me he was glad that I understood, as a fellow Midwesterner, the significance of The Rose Bowl. I doubt another North Harrison Football T-Shirt has made it to Pasadena. Go Cougars!

Yes, Will is a big deal!

Will led me out to the Rose Bowl Stadium Field.  Entering the field, I walked over the corner of the end zone where Texas’ Vince Young scored to win the National Championship over USC in 2007.  Keith Jackson was on the call for the last time.  None of this was lost on me. I remember every moment.

Will and I talked about Rose Bowl history as my Brownstown Central gym bag circa 1978 listened in.

And then it was time to kick.  I did not miss.

Go Cougars!

Thank you for humoring me.  I have no idea how many times some of these photos have made it on this space. I know I never tire of reliving it.  After all, it is The Rose Bowl.

This is my Dad walking through a Rose Bowl tunnel. You have to experience to understand.

He found this.  I am so glad.

Dad and I watched this year’s Rose Bowl together, as is our custom.  Being there changes everything.

GUESS WHAT!

I am sooooooooooo pissed at the horizon of college football with changes in the bowl games and the NIL and the players opting out of bowl games…I have made a WONDERFUL decision!  Staring in 2024, when USC and UCLA being Big Ten play, I will be treating the UCLA and USC Big Ten home games as MY Rose Bowl Games!!

I am looking forward to the Big Ten 2024!

And when the Indiana Hoosiers go to play UCLA in the Rose Bowl, chances are better than not I will be done.  I will move on from football watching to bird watching.

After all, not unlike the Indiana Hoosiers of The Rose Bowl 1968, I have been there and done that!

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

January 1, 2015 was the first and only time I watched the sun come up on a new year over the water. This was taken on Hilton Head.

My dear wife, Carrie, reminded me subtly that writing is one of the things that I “just do”.  She broke this to me yesterday morning as I was ruminating over the end of speaktherights.com.

She’s right.  Writing is something I do.  I certainly don’t do as much of it as I once did.  Much thought has been given to a re-do of this space and the pace.  I don’t report here nearly as much as I once did.  I looked at 700 posts as being enough of enough.  I mean, sometimes I feel like I am writing the same old thing over again.  Sometimes that is the case.  Alas, each day brings a new sunrise and a new adventure.  That adventure may be mundane or it may be life-altering.  We don’t know.  I take a leap of faith every day.  I don’t see as much good in the world as I once did.  I am glad I can help young people out now more than ever. We are all charged with pulling the good rope harder than ever.

I heard a lady on TV last night, as I turned away from the football game I was watching that went to commercial.  I am forever guilty of giving the TV remote, which was me in the 1970s, a workout.  Anyway, this lady was in New York and she said she feared that Broadway plays were dying a slow death.  Her reason was that theatre goers wanted to be reminded of something they already know (revivals of old plays and music of groups already known) more than wanting to step out and make their brains work by experiencing and taking in a new play that requires original thought and processing.  Maybe even a little original decision making also is problematic for some.  This paragraph takes the essence of what the lady was saying and I certainly added my sentiment to hers.  She was kinder than I am, certainly.

Perhaps I can relate here just a bit.  High water finds itself in the strangest of places.

I suppose as long as there is a Harbor Town that is waiting out there.

As long as there is a Faith Harbor.

As long as there is a Sprayberry’s Barbecue in Newnan and a B3Q Barbecue in Corydon!

As long as goalposts are up.

As long as kids are still picking up guitars and drumsticks.

As long as there is anticipation as the lights go up on an empty stage.

As long as there is minor league baseball.

As long as there is a football locker room I can find my way into.

As long as I can see this.

From time to time, I will continue to speak the rights or a reasonable facsimile thereof.

Danny Johnson

You know since I started writing on this space in the Summer of 2014, I have written a great deal about music.  Music continues to have a great impact on my life.  I have a God-given musical ear.  I have told this story many times.  It was not until I was thirty years old did I discover I could take a guitar and piece of paper into a room and thirty minutes later I might have something special to take with me for the rest of my life.  I enjoy writing songs.

The song by the title of Don’t Let the Music Die was on The Bay City Rollers’ 1977 album titled It’s a Game.

This was the boys to men sort of album that spawned the last hit for The Bay City Rollers.  Rollermania did not last enough for me to witness it.  In 1978, after their last album Strangers in the Wind, The Bay City Rollers were over.  I was ten.  I still listen to these last two BCR offerings every now and again; I smile when I listen to them.

Five years later I bumped into this cassette tape.

The Moody Blues’ Days of Future Passed.  I had it with me in 2017 when I heard the band play the album in its entirety on the 50th anniversary of the album.  I was fortunate enough to see them perform this twice.  The first time on July 1, 2017 was when I was with my sister at The Fraze Pavilion in Kettering, Ohio.  That is where I took these pictures.

The last time I saw The Moody Blues, my dear wife, Carrie, was with me at The Ryman Auditorium on July 22, 2017.

The photo above was the last Moodies image we captured.  This was a dream photo in a dream ending.

We were on the balcony at The Ryman.  It was the third time Carrie and I had seen them there.  The band was playing Ride My See-Saw, the last song of the show.  The final encore.  While Justin Hayward was tearing up the Telecaster on a solo that has a beach-mode sound, I took Carrie’s arm and said, “I don’t want to hear the last note end.”  So we left our seats and walked to the top of the balcony, the only way out, and stopped for a few moments and last photos.  We were in The Ryman’s ancient stairwell and heading down toward the door while the boys were still at it.  It was perfect.  Never reaching the end.

It is my understanding that this is one of the first publicity shots of The Moody Blues in 1966 when Justin Hayward and John Lodge, the chaps on the right, joined leftover members Graeme Edge, Ray Thomas, and Mike Pinder after Denny Laine and Clint Warwick left the band.  Mike called it quits in 1978.  Ray retired in 2003 and died in 2018.

Justin, Graeme, and John in a picture taken between those last two shows I saw in 2017.  Listening to these guys live was more than we could ask for.  This past June my Dad and I saw Justin in Knoxville playing a solo show.  No drums.  A couple guitars, a flute, and a keyboard.  Justin is joined by Mike Dawes, Karmen Gould, and Julie Ragins.  They are a great group too.

I’ll always be here.

Eventually, it was my turn.  I tell folks had I known my ear was as musically inclined as it is when I was fourteen, I would never have looked at a football.  My musical life did come around to me late in life.  That too has been reported on these pages. I sure have been blessed.

In earnest, I had to google this to find a picture of it.  When it is yours, that is what you do.  You don’t pay attention to things like this when you were there.

No duet here.  This was only a promotional shot. With my old friend Jerry Brown.

Having your music available on streaming services means you may find something like this.  Don’t ask.  I have no idea what an anghami is.

I took some Medora HS students to record in 2013.  We had a blast!  Justice, Alexis, Michael, and Hannah.  

Rod Wurtele is the best keyboard player I know and an even better guy!  Jeff Carpenter is my partner in music.  He holds the lot together like no one else.

Between us, I hope to get back in the studio in 2023 for one more go of it.  

I have heard Justin Hayward make mention on multiple occasions about hanging on to the music of your youth.  I’m not sure if I am hanging on to the music or if the music is hanging on to me.

Lastly, let me give a nod to the greatest radio dee-jay I have ever known.  Rockin’ Robert Becker.

Robert Becker sold WJAA 96.3 in Seymour a couple years ago.  I listened to him every day I could.  He played The Moody Blues every time I asked him.   Justin Hayward was kind enough to send me a promo recording touting Becker’s exit from the station and thanking him for playing The Moody Blues’ music.  I smiled every time I heard that.

And let me give a nod to Larry Lujack and the last great AM Rock Station.  870 WLS The Rock of Chicago.  When WLS became talk radio I was upset.   It lasted through my high school years from 1982-1986.  That helped.  Lujack and Tommy Edwards bit called Animal Stories lives on through three compilation lps I am fortunate to have acquired.

Don’t Let the Music Die.  I could write about it forever.

Speaking the rights.

Danny Johnson

If I knew where to start I would do so.

Sitting in a hotel room looking at Oklahoma playing Florida State.  No, it is not the Orange Bowl like it was in years gone by.  They are playing tonight in the CHEEZ-IT BOWL.  Yes, that is how far college football has strayed.  That is another post completely.  I doubt we ever get there.

But I do watch football.  I watch it often.  I hope I always do.  We shall see.  My Dad turned me on to this game a long time ago.  He was coaching the game in Brownstown when I got here.  I don’t want to talk about my birthday.  I want to say Happy Birthday to my Dad.  Born in Jackson, Mississippi on December 29, 1942.  The big 8-0.  I must say this might phase him or anyone else.  It does not phase me.  I have baseball and football cards of guys born in the 1930s.  So, this is not a big deal.  Well, I suppose it is.

I wish him a very Happy Birthday and thank him for all he has done to help me out over the years.  We certainly don’t have time to list all of that.

While we are on football, Ole Miss was pitiful in the Texas Bowl last night.

This helmet sits like this until…

Speaking the rights.

Danny Johnson

Yes, I know.  We are on the other side of shorter days.  Since we are past the Winter Solstice, I have always been impressed with the sound of those two words next to each other, the days will continue to get longer as winter gives in to spring.  I get it.  But today was one of those.

Away from school and that routine for a week, I may find myself a little unaccountable.  Today that happened.  There was not enough day in my day.  I am hustling to write this.  When it shows up on my feed it will look as if I wrote it on December 29th, even though we are four and half hours from seeing that midnight fall.

In an hour and a half I will be tuned into the Texas Bowl.  In this game the Ole Miss Rebels will be playing the Texas Tech Red Raiders.  Ole Miss started the season 7-0.  They finished 8-4.  I am sure some out there are not thrilled with playing Texas Tech.  They wouldn’t be had the Rebs won more than one of their last five games.  Don’t get me going.

I saw these two teams play in the Independence Bowl in 1986.

It was a great game I can tell you.  Ole Miss 20  Texas Tech 17.

Mark Young completed 31 passes for the Rebels.  The most before completions in the I-Bowl before Young’s 31 was 19. It was a show.  He did not throw an interception.  Independence Stadium was packed.  I was sitting on fifty yard line by my lonesome, leaning up against the press box.  It was a great night.  I was fortunate to take it all in.

Hotty Toddy indeed.

Speaking the rights.

Danny Johnson