Have you ever been on a beach and watched the Tide roll in? The change in water level is caused by the combined effects of the gravitational forces exerted by the moon and the sun and the rotation of the Earth. The water is calm. Then suddenly the tide moves in. It’s a gradual, even unassuming, event. The next thing you know, you look up and there is a violent wave of water crashing down on the sandy beach, imposing its will on the shoreline. It’s unforgiving and relentless.
Last Saturday night in Death Valley, Baton Rouge, the sun and moon and the gravitational forces began to shift with just over a minute to go on the game clock. The Tide had been calm and steady and unassuming for most of the game. Then suddenly, without notice, the Tide came crashing down on the turf of Tiger Stadium. AJ McCarron led the Tide down the field with no timeouts. A game winning touchdown silenced the crowd at Death Valley. The Tigers gave way to High Tide. They had to. They’re unforgiving and relentless.
So now this week, the Texas A&M Aggies get to try their hand at pushing back the Tide. Good luck.
The LSU Tigers had scratched and clawed their way back to number five in the BCS polls. Their defense was as stingy as any defense in college football. Their offense was beginning to figure it out. They had everything in front of them: a shot at the SEC title and a possible date in the National Championship game. They had a date with the number one team in the country on prime time television, at night, in Death Valley. There was just over a minute, the Tide were down and backed up in their own territory with no timeouts. LSU was on its way. Things were looking up for the Tigers.
The Tide had other plans. A late minute Heismanesque drive by up-to-that-point-in-the-game struggling QB, AJ McCarron on national TV to put the Tide ahead silenced Death Valley. And it wasn’t just deafening, it was spine-chillingly silent. But that’s what Alabama does. They’re dream killers.