Deep in the heart of Texas, the stars are big and bright, and the prairie sky wide and high.
It is, in other words, the perfect place to lay things to rest tomorrow -- not one, not two, but three dying that have lived longer lives than they deserved to have.
The first: that seed of bitter disappointment, 11 years a burden. Nothing can truly end the frustration of missing out on Pasadena at Mack Brown's hands, but Saturday, we have the chance to extract some measure of vengeance -- a chance we have waited four years to try again. Any measure, even one as petty as this would be a start, especially when we failed so miserably in San Diego.
Let us bury that seed deep in the end zones of Darrell K. Royal, shoveling load after load of paydirt over it after each score we total.
The second: the undefeated streak of one redshirt freshman Jerrod Heard and new playcaller Jay Norvell, who will see their perfect records a second time, but never a third, for Rice, we are not.
Let our defenders and linemen plant Heard into the turf, ad nauseum, until his legs can only chug the Texas offense into stagnation.
The third: the still fledgling regime of Charlie Strong, flailing, floundering and in need of a merciful end.
Let us deliver the final, fateful eulogy, by way of blowout, in the stadium they revere so deeply, for at game's end, there can only be one Lone Star -- the one that shines up in the Western sky with hues of Blue and Gold, not faded, burning orange.