I'm sitting here in Auburn's athletics complex, awaiting a Chick-fil-A Bowl press conference and thinking just how nice it is to have things getting back to normal. We'll have some questions today related to Tommy Tuberville's now concluded contract negotiations with Auburn, but the 10-day chase of Tuberville news is over.
Since we're getting back to the mundane, I thought I'd share a funny story from the mundane.
I'm sitting at my kitchen table Tuesday, staring into my laptop and awaiting word on Tuberville's meeting with athletics director Jay Jacobs in New York. I hear a knock at the front door. It's the bug man, and he's here for our termite inspection.
He goes down in the basement, and I return to the kitchen table. A few minutes later, I hear the basement door open. I get up to meet the bug man and get the word on our humble home.
As I approach him, I see a ladybug crawling on his left cheek. Just as I start to say something, he says, "Well, I didn't see anything."
File this one under, "Life of a beat writer." Actually, it's life of a beat writer's wife.
The last 10 days of chasing has claimed casualties, starting with at least four scheduled off days. My wife and I had to cut a planned shopping day in Birmingham short. We postponed our annual trip to see the lights at Noccalula Falls. The Christmas tree remains in its box.
Oh, and I'm getting those icy stares.
The stares started Friday in the Riverchase Galleria. I listened to sports talk radio all the way there, and my cell phone just magically stayed in my ear.
Just when we had a few uninterrupted minutes of shopping, none other than Auburn running back Brad Lester walked by. He said hey. We talked casually for a minute, and he had my 20-month-old son, Hayden, give him five.
It was a pretty neat little moment, but it just added to Rhonda's growing frustration. We just couldn't get away from Auburn.
Perhaps I should her get revenge. I could leave my cell phone on through today's press conference. Rhonda could call and interrupt to her heart's content.
Nah. Wouldn't want the Eat Mor Chikin cow to charge me.
To Shirley, who emailed me to complain about 10 days of all-Tuberville, all-the-time, I say it's nice to know readers feel like I do.