everybody’s all-american

So, the story goes like this:

A few weeks ago, my mother told me that my grandmother had recently read a wonderful little story about Colt McCoy (the Texas Longhorns’ quarterback) in an obscure small-town church  newsletter. “Colt and his little buddy Shipley are witnessing for Jesus, and bringing college kids to the Church of Christ right and left.”

The author of the article, for some insane reason, decided to include the cell phone number for Colt’s father. My grandmother thought that was just wonderful, so she picked up her phone. She’s country. She’s almost 90. And she’s not afraid of anything.

When Colt’s dad answered, my grandmother told him about the article, and that she was very impressed with Colt. Then asked if Colt might give her great-grandson (who lives in Austin) a call to invite him to join Colt at church some time. Papa McCoy said that he was sure that Colt would do just that, but, they were in New York for some award presentation but when they returned to Texas, Colt would give him a call.

When I saw my grandmother over the holidays, I asked her if this story was true.

Her answer was priceless: “Well,” she said, “the last time I talked to him, he told me just how wonderful he thought it was that I was so interested in my great-grandson’s affairs…”

“THE LAST TIME I TALKED TO HIM” I think that my grandmother is now stalking the McCoys.

I’m out of words now…


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