One Ole Miss Fan’s Finest Hour

I started going to Ole Miss football games as a kid in 1977. (Yes, I really was one of the people in the stadium in Jackson when we beat Notre Dame). In the ensuing decades I have left Ole Miss home games after close losses numb, chagrined, sad, upset, angry, crestfallen – you name it. But I have never been as devastated before or since as I was the night of November 1, 2014. I am quite sure many of you share my feelings about that evening. As difficult as it was, it ultimately provided what I consider one of the great moments in Ole Miss fandom history. Bear with me.

Let’s set the stage. Earlier that season, the most glorious day in Vaught-Hemingway, the Grove, and Oxford for that matter occurred when Ole Miss hosted ESPN Gameday and defeated Alabama. I still watch replays of the final few minutes of that game regularly and would not be opposed to a statue of Senquez’s interception being prominently displayed outside the stadium.

The Rebels handily defeated Texas A&M and Tennessee in their next two games before dropping a heartbreaker to LSU at Tiger Stadium. Despite that loss, they still held control of their own destiny for the SEC West title when Auburn came to town.

If you’re an Ole Miss fan between the ages of 18 and 108 you know the story. It was a back-and-forth affair. The Rebels trailed 35-31 but were driving late with an opportunity to win. Laquon Treadwell caught a pass and worked his way towards the endzone. The referees ruled it a touchdown. There was 1 minute and 30 seconds left to play. I immediately rushed to the restroom so I could be back in my seat in time for the kickoff. I didn’t even realize the ball had come out or that Treadwell was hurt until I walked in and could hear the radio broadcast. Kellum said they were reviewing the play and it was going to be close. He also added that Treadwell was being attended to. My heart sank.

Of course, Treadwell had broken his leg, it was ruled a fumble, and the Rebels fell. I was crushed. Literally unable to get out of my seat for many minutes after the game. Still not sure I’m over it.

Now for the rest of the story.

My good friend G Morgan was there in our section of friends, and though just as devastated as I was, and all of us for that matter, his reaction was different than mine. I could not even return to our tent afterwards because I was too despondent to speak to anyone. This is not unusual for me after tough losses as many will attest. G did return to the tent and will be the first to admit some bourbon was consumed in the immediate aftermath.

It would probably serve to provide some background here on G (Yes, it’s just G. Don’t ask). His father Gerald Morgan was a member of the Ole Miss football squad in the late 1950’s but may be better remembered by some as the coach of Drew High School when a young redhead named Archie Manning became a quarterback. In fact, Gerald and his wife Betty lived next door to the Mannings, and he was the one who gave Archie his first opportunity to play quarterback. Gerald coached Archie from his ninth through eleventh grade years, before deciding to leave coaching and enter the ministry. (Side note: Gerald and my late father-in-law, Dr. William G. Munn, grew up together in Mendenhall, were football teammates and life-long friends.)

But I digress.

After roughly an hour and a half at the tent, with emotions running the gamut, G along with his wife Dianne, and a couple of other friends and fellow tent members of ours, Doug Thompson and John Edwards, decided to make a run to 4 Corners Chevron for some chicken-on-a-stick to salve their wounds. The plan was to grab enough for the four of them and a couple of others back at the Inn at Ole Miss.

When they arrived, the line for chicken-on-a-stick was already out the door. Diane and John elected to stay in the vehicle while G and Doug got in line. Ole Miss fans there were in a sour mood. There was a lot of grumbling. Then as fate would have it, two Auburn fans in their mid-to-late 20’s entered the line behind G and Doug.

What ensued was about a thirty-minute period of winding their way around the store, down the aisles and back by the coolers before finally approaching the register. During this entire time the Auburn fans, while maybe not obnoxious, carried on a conversation about their victory, the Treadwell injury, and how silly it was for Ole Miss to think they could win the SEC West, etc. etc. Keep in mind that while this wasn’t directed at him, G had to listen the entire time. Yet despite having to endure it, G relayed, “They still had a chance for redemption. If they had tried to establish any kind of rapport before I got to the case, I probably wouldn’t have done what I did. But they never did.” 

What he did was legendary.

As G got to the register, the cashier asked him if he knew what he wanted. He replied, “Yes, but hold on one second.” He then turned to the two Auburn fans and asked, “Hey, you guys want chicken-on-a-stick tonight?” 

“Yeah!” these Tigers enthusiastically replied. 

“Well, you’re not getting any. Go back to Opelika!”

G then turned back to the cashier and said, “I’ll take everything.”

The flummoxed cashier asked, “What?”

“I’ll take everything in the case,” G responded. People waiting in line began to get upset with this turn of events, but he proceeded to announce to everyone that all Ole Miss fans who wanted some food should meet him in the parking lot.

The chicken-on-a-stick that a couple of Auburn fans had to head back to the Plains without.

Shortly thereafter, G and Doug exited 4 Corners with somewhere between $200 and $1,000 worth of food. G estimates on the low side, Doug the high. Recall that bourbon was in play here.

Diane Morgan, who had waited patiently in the driver’s seat of their vehicle this entire time, saw them walk out carrying multiple greasy bags of chicken-on-a-stick, corndogs, crespitos, potato wedges and egg rolls. She turned to John and said, “Oh, this oughta be good.” Indeed it was.

They did distribute some food to others in the parking lot but ended up carrying back much more than they needed for their small group. None of them regretted it.

Now, some might argue that this was an inappropriate response. Perhaps even petty. To that I say that throughout history duels have been fought for lesser offenses. In fact, I would argue that G demonstrated restraint and that many – myself included – might have handled things in a much poorer manner. In other words, y’all without sin can cast the first stone.

So now you know the story of one Ole Miss fan’s finest hour. Maybe the finest of any Ole Miss fan. Should G have children named after him because of this incident? Probably not. Though he wouldn’t begrudge that, I’m quite sure. The world could use more one-letter first name folks walking around. But I do think the case could be made that at a minimum his photo should be prominently displayed behind the counter at 4 Corners Chevron. Or dare I say … build a statue.