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The original was posted on /r/cfb by /u/guadalupeoso on 2026-01-23 17:16:25+00:00.

Long post, but I hope someone out there can enjoy it on this Friday.

My grandfather, who was an avid college football fan and a Baylor fan, passed yesterday morning. I owe a lot to him, but one thing in particular that I owe is my Baylor fandom. He encouraged my mom and my aunts to attend Baylor and thus started a legacy that has now culminated in a family with nearly 17 Baylor degrees between all of us. While it can be hard to find much joy in college football these days (sometimes because of the changing atmosphere of the sport, in other part due to the fact that my team stinks), I think it can still be helpful to remember why we care about this sport and the memories that shaped our love for it. I wanted to share a specific memory that I have about Baylor football with my grandfather, in hopes to honor his memory, but also so that it might help someone else remember how they fell in love with the sport and regain some perspective amidst this weird time in our athletic history.

I write a college football column for my local paper in the fall, and sometimes write essays on broader college football topics and share them on my Medium page. Below is an excerpt from an essay I wrote following the last time that Baylor played Texas in Waco in 2023, reminiscing about the “rivalry.”

December 3, 2011. I was a junior in high school, and Baylor finally seemed to have a good team for the first time in a long time, thanks to this guy named Robert Griffin III. We called him RGIII. My grandfather loves football, and would have it on every Saturday and Sunday, with Baylor being his team on Saturdays and the Cowboys on Sunday. Since my grandparents lived down the street from me, I would walk down on the weekends, watch a little football, and take a nap on their couch. Well this particular Saturday was the final game of the regular season. We all knew that RGIII was likely a Heisman candidate, but that a strong performance against Texas would really solidify his trip to New York, which would be groundbreaking for the university. So I strolled down the street to watch the game.

Now, several years before this my grandfather had gotten in a bad car wreck that had essentially broken half of his body, including cracking his skull. It turned out that the wreck also changed his personality a little bit. He had always been a fairly serious man, but he would often talk about things he was interested in and could even be quite gregarious and comical at times, especially with me and my cousin. He had taken us on quite a few unusual adventures (stories for another time) over the years and we were all close. But at this point in time, he was mostly quiet, didn’t say much, and didn’t seem to have quite the zest for life and adventure that he’d had for most of my childhood. I didn’t love him any less, but he was not the way we all remembered him. But back to the game.

I did my usual routine. Came in the house and plopped myself on the couch for the game. Me and him and my Grandmother all chatted a little bit, but mostly we watched the game in silence, with an occasional, “yes!” or “ugh!.” I fell asleep sometime toward the end of the half, but came out of my slumber in the 3rd quarter to find that Baylor, who had fallen behind early, had taken the lead over Texas and was ahead 31-24. Shortly after I awoke, Baylor safety Sam Holl intercepted a pass from Case McCoy and returned it inside the Texas 15 yard line. With the game in a precarious spot, this was huge as Baylor now was in position to go up by two scores to take a more comfortable lead (Baylor ended up winning 48 to 24, and RGIII did win the Heisman). But as soon as the interception happened, my grandfather nearly leapt from his chair and exclaimed “That’s what we needed Hunter! That’s! What! We! Needed!.” And for a moment, my Grandaddy, as I’d known him, was back. Baylor football, with a chance to beat Texas for the first time in forever, had brought him back, if only for a second. It was also at that moment, I think, that I knew I’d root for Baylor football for the rest of my life. I had no choice.

But I think about that memory every fall, and how the things we love and care about can often bring out who we really are. That small moment where I caught a glimpse of my grandfather’s real personality, as I’d idolized him as a child, might have been a foundational moment to me. It’s certainly one of the moments that solidified my love for Baylor. I ended up attending Baylor, which was not a miracle in and of itself, as my mom’s family are (mostly) all Baylor Bears. But it was there I met my wife, the best woman I know, who has given me two daughters, the best girls I know. Small moments, indeed.

Sic Em forever.