THANKFUL

 

Constantly worship to the Lord, since he will call you into the game of life to spread his message of love and hope to those who are lost—1 Peter 3:15 (King Jimmy Translation).

The 12^th Man

“Hey, Jimmy, did you hear the joke about the Aggie who . . .”

It happens regularly. We Aggies may be the brunt of every joke imaginable, but we are a proud group at Texas A&M. Established as a land grant college in 1876, Aggies have strong bonds to one another and cherished traditions. Aggies have a saying: “If something happens once, it was an accident. If it happens twice, it becomes a tradition.”

Football season brings out the tradition of the midnight yell practice before a game. During football games, Aggies lock arms and legs to sway side-to-side in simulation of cutting off the horns on Bevo, the mascot longhorn for our arch-rival, the University of Texas. What Aggie isn’t moved when the trumpets sound the Aggie War Hymn and shouts of “Whoop!” echo around Kyle Field. These are thumbs-up “Gig ‘em Aggie!” moments.

One beloved tradition, the 12^th man, goes back to 1922, when the mighty fighting Aggies played Centre College. Injuries decimated the team. We were down to eleven men. Another injury, and the Aggies would be undermanned.

Coach Dana Bible (great name!) recruited a student from the press box, slapped a uniform on him and had him stand on the sideline. If needed, he would rush into the battle. From that game to this day, Aggies stand during football games, ready to rush in to ensure victory. The official 12^th man carries the flag leading the football team onto the field.

Even though our traditions may seem strange to others, we are a cultured bunch of rednecks.

Case in point. Recently, your redneck Aggie scribe and Mrs. Cultured Aggie graced the Regal Opera Company with our refined presence to witness The Audition, an opera-takeoff on the myriad of reality shows that currently flood the networks. The story line details the efforts of three singers auditioning for spots on a new TV reality show, the American Opera Idol.

Mrs. Cultured Aggie, dressed to the hilt, looked stunning as I escorted her into the hall. On the other hand, I dodged the “formal-wear bullet” since a tuxedo wasn’t required. I proved to my fellow opera-goers the adage “you can be a redneck scribe in sweat pants and flip-flops and be cultured, too.”

A close, non-Aggie lady friend starred in opera and told me beforehand to pay close attention since I would find great enjoyment in one scene. 

I must admit: opera singers are in a class all their own. Their amazing talent and voice control, combined with acting skills, proved to me opera singers are not sissies. I tipped my Aggie cap to them. The opera flowed smoothly and every scene made me appreciate their talents more. But one passage gripped my emotions and brought tears.

Our dear friend and her two companions sung the classic Three Little Maids from School from the famous opera Mikado. Although written 125 years ago, this song stirred my heart. As the three divas belted out the melody, they suddenly stopped in mid-song, raised their right hand, thumbs extended and yelled, “Gig ‘em Aggies!” and then continued with the song.

Oh! That got my attention. My popcorn scattered over the opera-goers when I leaped to my feet and yelled in agreement, “Gig ‘em Aggies!” The exaltation felt identical as when A&M beat Alabama.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Cultured Aggie didn’t share my enthusiasm. Red-faced, she apologized to her neighbors, and using terminology not associated with Sunday school, insisted I sit down and behave. Most of the audience were obviously Longhorn fans since they refused to lock arms to sway side-to-side. (Bunch of stiff-shirts) In the spirit of the 12^th Man, I stuffed my seat cushion under my shirt to clone the opera singers, just in case one bit her tongue and I needed to rush onstage to sing La Donna e Mobile. Mrs. Aggie refused but I stood for the remainder of the performance.

Somewhere in the middle of a diva’s high frequency, crystal-shattering note, I heard that still, small voice say to me, Are you the 12^th man when it comes to my game plan?

The question caught me off guard. Whadda you mean, Lord?

Are you standing eagerly on my sideline, ready to rush into the battle against the forces of evil when I call you? Or are you sitting comfortably, watching others do battle with the devil?

Okay, I’m listening.

He explained more. How can you remain on the sidelines when I’ve called you into the game? You remember when I called you and extended my grace to you. Forgave all your wrongdoings? Does that ring a bell?

Oh, yeah. Unpleasant memories returned. Those were dark days, weren’t they?

Now you’re wearing the armor I put on you, he reminded me. You know, wearing my righteousness now, and holding my shield of faith. Look here—I even gave you the authority to use my Word—the Scriptures—to fight the devil, but sometimes you leave my ‘sword’ on the coffee table, gathering dust.

I admit he had a point.

Just be ready and obedient to rush into the game when I call you, the Lord said. Others out there are lost and confused as you were and I’ve trusted you with my message of hope. You’ve got to tell them how much I love them and how their life has purpose and meaning when they trust me. Got that?

Yes, Lord, I said. I’m ready to run into the battle when you call my number.

Lord God, may all Christ-followers be the 12^th man, eager and ready to join in the battle for lost souls for your kingdom.

Stay close to Jesus.

Jimmy

P.S. I took a cab home.

Jimmy Eskew © 2016