Vincent Paul until I croak

As Packer fans enter into the last stages of preseason football and start to see depth charts shake out and roster moves being made, I wanted to take a moment to explain what you may see as the insane following that VY has, despite everything that has happened to him and because of him.

For those who don't understand the irrational infatuation and love that some of us have for VY, I’ll hazard a guess that you aren't a male, aged 26-36. You probably weren't on campus or associated with UT in the middle of VY-mania and you didn't have a front row seat on the round trip ride that VY took those of us on from 2004-2006 which is why your views and opinions on the matter are, pun irascibly intended, pedestrian.

We root for him and believe in him partly because we’ve witnessed firsthand the magic but also because he is part of our extended family. You won’t understand the attention and hope we emit because If you were in that aforementioned demographic, then you'd know that somewhere on that timeline in the mid 2000’s, our Longhorn Football fandom and VY’s DNA, like some Jeff Goldblum 80’s horror movie with terrible costumography, got mixed up together and we will now be forever be tied with each other.

For my part, I am far from a Longhorn super fan. I didn’t grow up a Longhorn fan despite living in Dallas and I barely even liked the team until the Spring I found out I’d be attending UT. But to this day, I will root for VY to make an NFL team and believe that he can one day be a Superbowl winning quarterback and will continue to advocate his candidacy until his viable days are effectively finished. At that point in time, I will wear my faded #10 shirt on game days and will regale my children - and their children and their children's children- with the oral folklore of VY, complete with (probably) exaggerated tales of heroism, strength and miraculous ability like those before me have done with the likes of Paul Bunyon and some carpenter from Galilee.

During the holidays he will be there in our homes as we pop in the DVD of the 2005 Rose Bowl and get drunk on nostalgia and egg nog—the reason for the season after all—because what is not understood to those unafflicted is that there is a neuron path carved into our brains others lack that will always compel us to root for VY while, taking the good with the bad, hoisting him as our champion and viewing him as an extended member of our family.

Either that or you are a shitty Longhorn fan and, clearly, you should hate yourself.

VY until I motherfucking die (here on known as #VYtilIdie)

P.S. Graham Harrell sucks and Aaron Rodgers can be hit by a bus.