Growing up, our little town had a church basketball league. Eight churches had teams: Baptist, Methodist, Presbyterian, etc.
And then there was one Black church.
Every year, we all knew exactly how this was going to go. They were going to win the championship, and the rest of us were going to take turns getting beat 80-15.
You still showed up. You still played. You still convinced yourself that maybe this year would be different.
That’s pretty much what it feels like being a Mississippi State fan when we play Alabama.
No coaching hire, no amount of money spent, nothing is going to change it.
There are white churches in my hometown with trophy cases full of runner up trophies.
And then there was one Black church.
Every year, we all knew exactly how this was going to go. They were going to win the championship, and the rest of us were going to take turns getting beat 80-15.
You still showed up. You still played. You still convinced yourself that maybe this year would be different.
That’s pretty much what it feels like being a Mississippi State fan when we play Alabama.
No coaching hire, no amount of money spent, nothing is going to change it.
There are white churches in my hometown with trophy cases full of runner up trophies.
