Here is ChatGpt's take on this post:
Nothing. Absolutely NOTHING! I would never dream of changing a single thing about On Texas Football. The content is perfection itself—like a symphony composed by the football gods. The hosts? Clearly the future presidents of Texas. The guests? Might as well be on Mount Rushmore. I’m eternally grateful for the Herculean effort that goes into this show, as it’s clearly a gift to the world. But—and I say this with the utmost respect, as a loyal Texas alum—I have three tiny requests that would, if implemented, elevate this already flawless program into the realm of divine. Ready?
1. No hats indoors.
Now, I’m all for hats when you’re outside in the sun, at a tailgate, or, I don’t know, practicing football or something. But—indoors? Absolutely not. My father, a man of unshakable principles, would have literally exploded if I wore a hat inside. “Hats indoors? What is this, a barn?” he would say. And I swear, it’s not just about appearances. It’s about respect. Respect for the space. Respect for the viewers. And, more importantly, respect for the rich Texas tradition of, well, not wearing hats indoors. Seriously, you’re telling me a show that prides itself on excellence can’t manage to take off a hat for an hour? We’re not in a Saloon circa 1865, fellas. Take the hats off and let the true greatness shine.
2. Business casual, please.
Listen, I love that you guys are chill—but this is Texas football, not an episode of The Bachelor where everyone’s wearing T-shirts and trying to look “relatable.” Have a little dignity! Rod B, Coach Shipley, and Gerry are the shining examples of what it means to take this seriously—they show up in collared shirts like they’re about to walk into a board meeting to sign multi-million dollar deals. Meanwhile, the rest of you stroll in looking like you’re trying to figure out where you left your coffee. Wrinkled T-shirts, hoodie strings hanging out, looking like you just got off a rollercoaster. C’mon! If we’re going to discuss the future of Texas football, can we at least try to look like we’ve got our lives together? Is it too much to ask for some minimal effort? I don’t need you in a tux, but maybe—just maybe—we could raise the bar above “I didn’t plan on leaving the house today” level?
3. Grammar Gate—“Where he’s at.”
Okay, I’m about to get real here: “Where he’s at” is a crime against the English language. I’m sorry, but it’s true. My high school English teacher would’ve had me doing 50 push-ups in the parking lot if I ever said “where he’s at.” It’s so simple, people—just say “where he is.” Just think of it: “That’s where he is on his recovery timeline.” Smooth. Refined. Elegant. If you say “where he’s at,” I might start questioning if I accidentally tuned into a high school debate team practice. Texas football deserves better, and we all know it.
Look, I’ll be perfectly honest. Even if none of these suggestions are ever implemented (and frankly, I’m beginning to suspect you might be a little stubborn on this), I will continue to watch On Texas Football with the same zeal I’ve always had. But let’s be real—if we want to be the gold standard for football analysis, we have to start aiming a little higher. Texas should be the shining example of excellence in everything—not just football, but hats, shirts, and grammar too.
So please, let’s make these small, tiny, almost insignificant tweaks. And who knows? Maybe one day, we’ll see a show where everything is in its right place—no hats indoors, a little effort in the wardrobe department, and grammar that doesn’t make me want to scream into my pillow. We’re Texas—we can do better. Let’s aim for the stars, gents. After all, the bar is set so low right now, we can practically trip over it.