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Sunday sermon: The king has returned
Oct 2, 2011, 8:14 AM
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Our lesson this morning comes from The 10 Commandments: the movie, not the stone tablets.
Mighty Pharoah has railed against Moses and his God of the Desert, then finally sent his chariots to destroy the rabble of slaves who have defied him.
Hmmm: Maybe there is something in those hills...
Of course, you know what happened. Pharoah returns, a broken and beaten man. As he slumps in his once-powerful throne, he mutters the deathless line: "Their God ...IS God."
That's the realization settling over the rest of the football world this morning. Pundits. Doubters. Those who remember and fear those days when l'il ol' Clemson could beat you like Quasimodo in the town square of Paris and they couldn't do a thing about it. They ALL desperately looked for an explanation, something to help them sleep at night. Anything but the truth.
Last night, the truth exploded across the gray, chilled skies of Blacksburg.
Clemson's version of the VTech lunch pail: hurts, don't it?
It's not because Clemson had played over-ranked, untalented, injured pushovers at home. It's not because Clemson hadn't played a decent defense yet.It's not because Clemson just borrowd Gene Chizik's horseshoe for a while.
Clemson won because Clemson is d@mn good.
I'll pause and let that finally sink in to everyone who doubted, who refused to accept the facts even as they unfolded before them.
The king has returned: Clemson is back.
There have been giddy moments in the past, times when everything clicked and the Tigers nailed down an impressive win.
But when's the last time you remember things going wrong and still coming home with a 20-point road win over a Top 10 team? I'll give you a hint ... never.
That's why you can look around at the dearth of dumpers and only feel sorry for people who weren't able to enjoy this E-ticket ride. Why the #### get on if you live in fear of falling off?
This morning, life feels like the last 8 bars of a Springsteen anthem, washing away whatever static and dissonance has come before them. The Sons of Clemson have returned, and they would like to have a word with whoever's been running things while they were gone: You can leave now. Thanks for watering the lawn and feeding the cat. We'll take it from here.
Clemson has come home. This is home we silverbacks remember. The place we used to tell increasingly skeptical children about as we gathered at night around the campfire. It's a touchstone for many, revelations for others.
We're going to have to fight to stay here. This real estate didn't come cheap and it can slip through complacent fingers. There's always someone who wants the penthouse. But as we've found out over the past generation, wanting is a far cry from getting.
If we're going to stay here, every Son of Clemson must hold his ground. The season can disappear in complacency, injury, or in the misguided belief that getting there is all that matters.
Clemson has arrived ... but we aren't there yet. Over the next two weeks we have foes that have earned a ticket to the most vigorous beatdown the Tigers can muster. Teams that have denied us trips to the ACC title game in years past because we did not rise up and take what was ours. Teams that would love nothing more than kick us out of the penthouse we worked so hard to enter.
Teams that now must pay.
If we have truly arrived, if King Clemson is indeed on the throne, then there must be a reckoning with these unbelievers. There will be a purging and purification of the temple, a cleansing of all that has defiled the past.
There will be pain, there will be blood ... and it won't be ours.
Carry the banner into battle...
Carry the banner from here and carry it proudly. Carry it with thanks to those who have fought so hard, who suffered the taunts of disbelievers for so long.
Clemson has returned. And woe to those who stand in our way.
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