Breakdown: Harvey's devastation gives Texas A&M-UCLA new meaning

During the football season, usually on a Tuesday afternoon, depending on the Texans schedule, I sit down with my computer, the previous week’s Aggies game cued up, a note pad to take some notes and Sisqó’s Enter the Dragon in my headphones. Don’t knock the Sisqó/game film watching combination - it’s an old habit and I’m not changing it. Like a computer programmer that gets locked in, I block myself off from the free world and go to work. For a typical Aggies opening game of the year, shoot, I’ll go X’s and O’s nutso because I have additional time to get work done. A couple of years ago, I pounded out a post on Arizona State and its passing game that took me hours, and they hadn’t even played a down of football that year. However, this year is different.

There’s no pad. There’s no film. There’s Sisqó, but more of his slow jam stuff, not the Thong Song (which still gets me hyped - don’t @ me, either).

This first game preview is coming from a much different place.

You see, I’m a citizen of the great city of Houston, as many of you were, are or will be in the future. No matter the extent of it, all of you have been impacted by Hurricane Harvey. I’m not breaking news to anyone, but I suppose it’s needed for context and background.

I moved to Houston from Northeast Wisconsin in 1983 when I was 11 years old. I had no idea what the hell was going on when my dad got a teaching/coaching job at Lamar Consolidated HS in Rosenberg, Texas. Three weeks into our arrival, Hurricane Alicia struck the city of Houston. Heck, I didn’t know what a hurricane was and why everyone was so panicked.

It wasn’t until I saw downtown Houston raining glass due to hurricane force winds on the nightly news that I fully understood the power of Mother Nature, outside of a midwestern blizzard.

In due time, I grew to love my new home as I traversed through middle school and high school 30 minutes from Houston. I went away to college and moved to other parts of the country for a while, but a job in sports radio brought me back in 2007 and my bond with Houston strengthened more than I ever could have imagined.

Unfortunately, my city will never be the same. It is changed forever, and we have no idea what it’ll change into. For those who don’t know, my real job is with the Houston Texans, so we were in New Orleans of all places, site of one of the worst natural disasters in history, for practices and a preseason game with the Saints when we first received word that Harvey may have bad things in store for southeast Texas. We hoped against hope that it would dissipate or weaken or turn back into the Gulf so we could just get home on Saturday night after the game. You see, I spent most of the month of August in West Virginia for training camp and another five days in New Orleans. I had seen my wife and kids for three days in a month. I couldn’t wait to get home after that game, and I wasn’t alone.

Even though Harvey made landfall south of Houston, we were still supposed to fly home after the game. As I was told prior to the game, “ONLY if things go sideways the next five hours” will we fly elsewhere.

We flew elsewhere.

None of us have been home. We’ve called, texted, tweeted, donated money, agonized, cried and gone through every range of emotion you can imagine. We’re not alone; you have as well. I realized, in all of this, that there are some tough sons of bitches out there and right up at the top is my wife. She is from North Carolina, so she knows hurricanes, but this thing, oh this thing was f’ing WAY different. I’m so proud of how she took care of our family (two teenage kids who don’t drive and two dogs). Similarly, you know someone who took care of someone’s family or maybe even your own. How about John Lopez, great Ag and Sports Radio 610 mid-day host, getting in a friend’s boat and rescuing people in Kingwood? That’s just one example and I’m sure you know more...many, MANY more.

So, it’s been hell for millions of people in Southeast Texas and beyond. At halftime of the game versus the Saints, my wife texted me saying that they were in my closet because a tornado warning popped up on her phone. 30 minutes later one hit about ten miles away. I didn’t care about a football game for the first time in my life and, again, I wasn’t alone. I watched a bunch of grown a-- men, fathers and husbands included, wanting to be only one place - home - and they couldn’t, and still can’t, get there. Now, imagine a bunch of 18-22 year old college kids living through this situation, watching, observing all that’s going on in Houston, in particular.

These players at Texas A&M have watched the devastation on television, perhaps recognizing a video or photo from someplace they know, or used to know. What could they do about it? Stress. Worry. Is my mom alright? Is my brother going to be okay? What about my high school coach and his family? The feeling of guilt is overwhelmingly powerful and I can empathize with them watching, reading and seeing it all from afar. It’s been as horrible as anything I can ever remember. I felt guilty that I was in a hotel in Dallas away from everything, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do but tweet and retweet and bother the hell out of my wife on texts. Now, imagine focusing on nothing but beating the hell out of UCLA and your 2017 football season...and then this devastation arrives to turn you inside out.

Emotions are all over the place and will be for a while; it’s to be expected. Can you imagine having the weekend we just did, traveling halfway across the country and playing an opponent with one of the top quarterbacks in the nation a few days later? I could’ve just stopped after “having the weekend we just did” and that would’ve been more than enough stress. Throw in the flight and a football game and, well, that’s rough. I’ve heard some say that “it’s just football, so what?” Nah, it never has been “just” football. Never will be, either. This game can’t eliminate all that’s happened, but for three and a half hours, we can immerse ourselves in something we love and block it all out for just a little bit.

The game itself, well, trying to harness all of those emotions these young men are battling is Kevin Sumlin’s biggest challenge. If UCLA kicks them in the teeth early, can they summon strength, physical and emotional, to fight back or will it take the life out of them? If A&M jumps on the Bruins quickly, can it maintain consistent pressure to eliminate UCLA on its home turf or will it wilt late in the second half?

As a head coach, the one adaptation that I’d probably make more than any other is to simplify everything. Pare down the game plan. A&M is starting a new quarterback on offense as it is. Regardless, keep it simple. Let these young men play as fast as possible. Take the guesswork out of anything they’re doing. Now, don’t make it elementary football, but make it less complex. Add the complexities in as the season goes on. But, this week? Let them breathe and let them play. Shoot, let them play fast. Putting too much on their already taxed plate might backfire horribly, to say the least.

Listen, I’ll be back to write about a lot of football this year, but this one, this opener, really isn’t about football, if I’m being honest. Just by showing up and competing, the Aggies will have won and this area of the country could use a W right about now. Salud, gentlemen, and BTHO UCLA.