**extremely Wright Thompson voice**
The past lives in the hallowed halls of Ole Miss. It is alive. Momma and daddy bought it a nice off-campus house so they have a place to stay on game weekends.
It’s in the way the leaves fall in October. With a subtle gentility of Eli Manning after he trips over his center’s feet.
The way they just lay perfectly on the grass. Just like Hayden Jr. passed out on the Kappa house front lawn.
It’s in The Grove. Where they’ve never lost a party. They’ve also never won one. Because they’ve never thought to keep score. Because that’s not something anybody actually does at a party.
There’s a gentility that is longed for. That is missed in this world. Missed like Jake Gibbs trying to tackle Billy Cannon on Halloween Night.
William Cuthbert Faulkner. Elisha Archibald Manning. Houston Dale Nutt. William Robert Wallace Jr.
Chicken tenders. Swedish meatballs. The stuff great tailgating is made of.
It’s Olive Branch. Or Madison. But claiming Memphis. Or Jackson.
The speed limit is always 18. And the road maps will take you anywhere but Atlanta.
At Ole Miss, the past is never dead. It’s just passed out in The Grove. It’ll make it into the stadium in the second half.