Javelina Football Memory Lane

Note: Some of the Javelina football greats include Gene Upshaw, Sid Blanks, Randy Johnson, Johnny Bailey, Dwayne Nix, Heath Sherman and Karl Douglas. They are pictured here.


For the South Texas football fan, a visit to Javelina Stadium on the campus of Texas A&M University-Kingsville during a football Saturday is not one that will soon be forgotten.

Every year and every game there seems to be some hero or standout player who rises above the green gridiron turf and sparkles with greatness that transcends generations and eras.

For me, those memories started in 1957 when my aunt Clelia Chapa was attending college at then Texas A&I. My grandfather, Pedro G. Chapa, would bring me to football games. It was here where I first heard the Javelina Marching Band trumpets blaring the Jalisco fight song inspiring the team to greatness on the field.

I still, sometimes, get goose bumps when I hear Jalisco echoing off the stands in Javelina Stadium.

My first visit to Javelina Stadiium was in 1957 and I saw Joe Holcomb, a prep star from nearby Freer, rip apart opponent defenses while soaring for yardage up and down the field on punt returns. He was unstoppable as he blew past the yard markers with the ease of South Texas bred mustang rolling down the prickly pear studded terrain. Holcomb, in the three years he played for the Javelinas, would become the all-time leader in punt return average for a career, averaging more than 19 yards per punt return and scoring numerous touchdowns. He still holds that mark. Remarkable.

That visit got me hooked. From that point on I would ask my grandfather if he was going to Kingsville to the game. We continued the tradition long after my aunt graduated. It was during that time I decided I would come to Texas A&I and, ironically, because I read the headlines and stories on the Sunday Corpus Christi Caller-Times the day after the game, to become a sports writer and follow the Javelinas. I was lucky I realized that dream and much more here on what I will always call my home campus - now Texas A&M-Kingsville. I have had wonderful times on campus, but the football memories are the ones that linger because they border on legend and greatness. Yes, Javelina football and Javelina Stadium will always be equated with greatness.

Simply put, the memories are wonderful and the players great. I can’t begin to name all of the players, but I will give a chronological listing of the players whom I fell stood out and whom made an impact that lasted – as I said earlier – beyond generations and eras.

Sid Blanks, an African-American running back from Del Rio, had to be one of the best to ever don the blue-and-gold of A&I. He was a first-class scatback that revolutionized offensive play in the Lone Star Conference. He was the first black football player in the LSC. He was All-American twice and made the all-conference four times. He set numerous records while with the Javelinas, both conference and school marks, and led the team in rushing in 1960, 1961 and 1963; in scoring in 1960, 1961 and 1963, led the team in receiving in 1961 and 1963. 
He led the LSC in rushing in 1960 and 1961 and was the top scorer in 1960. Blanks was an unbelievable player, one with character and courage who overcame many cases of discrimination just so he could help the Javelinas win. Under Coach Gil Steinke, the Javelinas won the LSC title in 1960 and 1962, During Blanks tenure with the Hogs, A&I was 29-7-2. Blanks went to a stellar career for several pro football teams.

There were others just as valiant and exciting to watch.

One was Randy Johnson, from San Antonio, the first great quarterback I saw at Javelina Stadium. He had a sling shot for an arm. The football would come out of his hand like a whip and zing across the field in a blur. It was hard for the receivers to hold on to the ball. Often it went right through their hands and hit them on the shoulder pads or helmet. When Johnson was off target, the ball would hit the Javelina Stadium turf and leave a divot on the ground. I still remember the managers going back at halftime to replace the grass that had popped out after an errant Johnson pass. Johnson died a horribly in 2009, alone and broke, but his legacy as a Javelina standout will live on forever. In a run-oriented era (1962-1965), he passed for 4,350 yards and 34 touchdowns and ranks in the top 10 in both categories for the Javelinas. He was the first quarterback for the then expansion Atlanta Falcons and helped that franchise gain stability in the NFL.

The 1960s were full of standout Javelina football players. One that definitely stood out was Eugene Upshaw, from nearby Robstown. Upshaw was a giant of a man destined for greatness in the college and pro ranks. He was immovable as an offensive lineman and the Javelina running backs would gladly tuck in behind him and ramble for yardage during those mid-1960s when Javelina football was king in South Texas. Upshaw was an All-America and All-Conference and went to become All-Pro and served as executive director of the National Football League Players Association. He had a couple of nickname at the time “Thud" and "Tut." Few remember them, but "thud" was the sound that was made when he led the Javelinas on a power sweep and he took out the opponent defensive end or linebacker. “Thud” would be heard and the stands would go "ooooh" as “Big Gene” motored around Javelina Stadium. "Tut" was more of a reference to King Tut, and Gene certainly was the King of Javelina Stadium during his tenure here.

The mid-1960s also produced one of the all-time great receivers in Javelina football history – Dwayne Nix. Nix, from nearby Ricardo, was neiher big nor quick. All he did was catch the football. He was the ultimate “possession receiver,” snaring 127 passes for 1,676 yards during his four years as a Javelina. He was a three-time Associated Press Little All-America and twice All-Lone Star Conference player. He concluded his career as the record holder of most of the school's receiving marks. He was elected to the All-Lone Star Conference team of the 1960s, was named a member of the Texas A&I 50th Anniversary team, and was elected to the Javelina Hall of Fame. After he left Texas A&I, he began a military career in the Marine Corps.

Around that same era came two great quarterbacks.

One was Karl Douglas, the first African-American quarterback for the Javelinas. Simply put, there were no other Black quarterbacks round in the South. Between 1967 and 1970, Douglas led the Javelinas to four Lone Star Conference championships and two national titles while posting a remarkable 41-4-0 record. Douglas is still the all-time career passing and touchdown passing leader for the Javelinas. During his All-America career, he completed 401 of 759 passes for 5,996 yards and 54 touchdowns. Douglas, from Houston, went on to a stellar career in the Canadian Football League.
Then, there was the irrepressible Richard Ritchie, the little engine that could. Between 1973 to 1976, he took the Javelinas on an unbelievable journey. As a quarterback, Ritchie had a record of 39-0. After winning in his only start during his freshman year of 1973, he would lead Texas A&I to three consecutive National Association of Intercollegiate Athletics Division I national championships. Between passing and running, he scored 60 touchdowns in his career. He is third all-time in total yards with 6,884 yards.

Then came the running back era for the Javelinas. Whoa! You talk about excitement. These were great.

Larry Collins was the first great running back of the modern era (past 40 years). Between 1974 and 1977, he rushed for 5,300 yards and 54 touchdowns, good for second all-time on the Javelina leader list. He would team with fullback Don Hardeman to terrorize defenses. Collins had 27 games of 100 yards or more rushing while Hardeman had 10. Together, they were “Thunderbolt and Lightfoot” and they led the Hogs to a 37-0 record. Both went to pro football careers. Hardeman would crash the defense inside and Collins would ramble outside. Together, they were unstoppable. Both went on to successful pro football careers.

If they were great, the next dynamic duo were simply fabulous – Johnny Bailey and Heath Sherman. Between 1985 and 1988, they were simply the best in the nation. Bailey was a three-time Harlon Hill winner and rushed for 6,900 yards, 72 touchdowns and averaged 164.3 yards per carry. Sherman averaged 114.2 yards per carry and rushed for 5,140 yards and 69 touchdowns. Bailey had 36 100-plus rushing games and Sherman 26. They were simply unstoppable.

Another running back who would follow the footsteps of greatness was Larry Williams between 2001 and 2004. Williams would rush for 4,060 yards and 44 touchdowns.

Great receivers were also plentiful. The most outstanding came between 1966 and 1976 when the likes of Nix, Dwight Harrison, Eldridge Small, David Hill and Glenn Starks rambled up and down Javelina Stadium like a flock of gazelles in the African savannah. Starks and Harrison are still the career touchdown leaders with 30 each. Just this year, Ryan Lincoln, who signed with the New York Giants briefly this season, broke Starks' reception record. Lincoln has 210 catches after Starks held the record for more than 40 years. Starks still holds the single-season touchdown-reception record with 14.

The defense definitely had its stars, too. Who can forget John Randle, who joined Gene Upshaw in the Pro Football Hall of Fame, and his days as Javelina. Randle was ferocious and still holds the quarterback sack career mark with 36 and in 1988 he had 22. He was great and destined for greatness. This past season, a young man named Matt Romig reminded me of Randle's play. Romig, who fell ill at mid-season and did not return, had 12 sacks in two years. Too bad, he too had greatness written all over him. Other great ones, in my book, include Robert Young (1969), David Palmore (1977), Andy Hawkins (1979), Jimmy Rivera (1982), Chris Hensely (1995), and Deandre Fillmore (2005).

Others who played defensive backs and linebackers cannot be ignored. Perhaps the greatest athlete to play for the Javelinas was Levi Johnson (1969-1972), who went on to star for the Detroit Lions. Johnson still holds the Javelinas interception mark with 22 and he still holds the return yardage record as well. Other greats in this area were Ed Scott (1967-1970), whose spinal cord injury ended perhaps a great pro career as well, Durwood Ruquemore (1978-1981), Leonard Avery (1973-1976), and Maurice Smith (1987-1989)

Then, there were the punt returners. What a crew that was. Some will say, and without argument here, that Darrell Green (1978-1982) , who went on to Pro Football Hall of Fame career with the Washington Redskins, was the best and most exciting. Agreed. Green was sensational. At any time he had the ball he could score and just soar past potential tacklers. However, between 1965 and 1968 a diminutive defensive back named Larry Pullin energized the Javelina fans with his consistent work at punt returns. Pullin leads, confortably, in career punt return yardage. Statistically, and in many ways, Pullin was the best. Now, this season, we have Jonathan Woodson who is threatening to become the best.


More recently, the quarterbacks have taken the sportling.

Abel Gonzalez (1999-2002) became the second all-time leading passer with 5,905 yards and 51 touchdowns. Gonzalez simply was an expert field general and a leader off the spread or pro set formations.
Billy Garza was the last great gunner. In a scant two years, became the third all-time passing leader with 5,498 yards and 40 touchdowns. Seeing Billy fling the ball was reminescent of Randy Johnson.

And, that's as it should be. That’s the beauty of Javelina football. The great players of the past are more than memories, they are idols and figures to be emmulated and aiming for their records is part of the greatness of Javelina football.

Greatness has always been associated with Javelina football.The memories run long and deep. When you see this year’s star, it will rekindle memories of years past. Or, if you’re new to Javelina football, you will start making your own memories.
And, in years to come you will say, Javelina Football is a true South Texas legend and stories of greatness abound.

Memorable Storms while a student at Texas A&I - Revisitng Hurricanes Beulah and Celia and the night the Javelina Stadium Lights were blown down

With Hurricane season in full swing, one can't help but reminisce about storms that made their way into South Texas and, in particular, the Kingsville-Corpus Christi area. Many people were disappointed with the impact of Tropical Storm Don this past July. Don simply fizzled (evaporated?) under the Texas heat. Wow. But I venture to say, we were fortunate. When conditions are right, a storm churning in the Gulf of Mexico can mean death and destruction. We should count our blessings and look toward the Gulf warily as the Hurricane Season pushes on.

Many storms have hit the Kingsville-Corpus Christi area. Two in particular, left their mark - Hurricanes Beulah and Celia. Beaulah struck in 1967 and Celia in 1970. They were devastating killer storms, each with its own characteristic that left marks on South Texas for generations. Both times, I spent the eve of the storm in Kingsvile at then Texas A&I University, and both times I was surprised to what I heard or found when I woke up in the morning.

Both times, I felt lucky to have survived and realized that the fury of nature has no equal and must be respected.

Hurricane Beulah was a massive rain storm that caused unprecedented flooding in South Texas, forming lakes that lasted 20 years or more and impacting the area for weeks and months before things returned to normal.

It tracked through the Caribbean, struck the Yucatán peninsula of Mexico as a major hurricane, and moved west-northwest into the Gulf of Mexico, briefly gaining Category 5 intensity. It was the strongest hurricane during the 1967 Atlantic hurricane season. The hurricane made landfall in northeastern Mexico with winds near 160 mph.

The storm then weakened before moving into Texas as a major hurricane. Hurricane Beulah made landfall south of the mouth of the Rio Grande as a Category 5 storm. It then meandered over land with Category 3 conditions until it fizzled out Sept. 22. It spawned 115 twisters across Texas, which established a new record for the highest amount of tornadoes produced by a hurricane to hit the Gulf Coast. Due to its slow movement over Texas, Beulah led to significant flooding and caused more than $1 billion in damages. There were 58 fatalities. Three fatalities could be attributed to flooding in Corpus Christi. There were deaths reported from Mexico, the Rio Grande Valley, Corpus Christi and the deep Brush Country of South Texas.

Beulah was strange and refused to die. I remember pelting rain for more than 24 hours, non-stop. I mean RAIN. Big drops constantly splashing into the streets at a steady consistent pace that was unusual for this area. It rained all over South Texas for five consecutive days as Beulah moved at a snail's pace up the area. We wondered, "Is it ever going to stop?" Refugees from the Rio Grande Valley somehow made their way up to Kingsville, where hundreds found refuge in the university's dorms and buildings. Classes were cancelled for days. Of course, the students who stayed behind found ways to entertain themselves and for days played touch football in the standing water in front of Nierman Hall.

But, the university was not spared from Beulah's wrath. The A & I Citrus Center at Weslaco lost 80 to 95 per cent of the fruit crop with damage estimated at $29,000. The most notable damages on campus were uprooted trees and shrubbery. The Javelina Stadium lights were blown down to about a 30-degree angle and had to be removed within the week. Due to the extensive cost of replacing the lights during the semester, all home football games were held in the afternoon. That year the Javelinas won the Lone Star Conference championship with a thrilling come-from-behind 23-21 win over rival Southwest Texas State before more than 15,000 fans at sun-lit Javelina Stadium. John Kardow kicked a 28-yard field goal with 1:18 left to play to seal the victory. The Hogs finished 9-0 that year, which will forever be known as The Year Hurricane Beulah Blew the Javelina Stadium Lights Down.

Beulah was indeed memorable for me and my friends. The night before Beulah hit the Kingsville area, my cousin Adan and I spent the night in my dorm room in Cousins Hall. By now it was a category 3 storm. We had volunteered to stay behind to help the Army ROTC unit feed the refugees who were fleeing from major flooding the Rio Grande Valley. We played it as safe as we could, taping windows and moving away from any doors. That night we could hear the wind howl through the university and the rain, the rain, constantly falling on campus. We woke up in the morning, about 5, and the tree outside was down. We saw the water rising to the steps and just wondered when it would stop. Meanwhile, the cafeteria - now the Conner Museum - had become a temporary refuge. Sandbags had been packed around it to avoid the flooding. We were assigned to kitchen duty and informed to make chicken salad sandwiches. Someone had stayed up all night preparing the meal. There was no way out any more. All of Kingsville was flooded. Outside, we could hear helicopters and trucks scurrying around the area. We heard that Dr. Manning was outside Manning Hall, protecting it, making sure no one could get in. There were reports he had a rifle with him and he was looking for looters. We also heard he was letting people in for safe refuge. Our ROTC officers just laughed and didn't worry about a thing. After all, it was Dr. Manning.

Then, we heard we were stranded. The campus had been cut off, becoming an island. Farm road 141 leading to the cutoff to Alice and Falfurrias had six-feet of water over it. The King Ranch had moved its cattle now, south, where the waters were receding. Bishop was closed and the road to Riviera was impassable. There was no way out for three days. Phone communications were down. The winds had been strong enough to tangle the Javelina Stadium lights, but it wasn't the wind that downed the telephone and power lines. It had rained so much that even the slightest Gulf breeze would knock the poles down as the ground was saturated beyond any thing we had ever seen in South Texas. The ground was just a dark-brown mush. An "emergency" phone line was set up for the refugees and for the parents of students who stayed on campus to contact their children. My family finally contacted me. They were coming to pick us up. They said there was only one lane of traffic from San Jose to Kingsville and that it would take quite a while to get here. We waited at Cousins Hall. We were glad to leave. On the way back west toward Hebbronville, we could not believe our eyes. The King Ranch fence had water to the top wire. One lane of traffic moved west, as slow as a turtle crossing a lonely Texas highway.

Hurricane Beulah would not soon be forgotten. The lower Rio Grande Valley, the four-county region that comprises deep South Texas, was inundated with torrential rains. Rain also doused the Brush Country areas of Kenedy, Jim Hogg, Duval, Webb, Kleberg, Brooks, Jim Wells, Nueces, Bee and San Patricio counties. Within a 36-hour period it dropped more than 27 inches of rain near Beeville. Falfurrias received more rain from Beulah than it normally records during one year. Areas south of Laredo, San Antonio, and Matagorda were isolated for more than a week due to the resulting flooding. On September 28, President Lyndon Baines Johnson declared twenty-four counties in southern Texas a disaster area. During a four-day period Beulah rained and reigned over South Texas, daily totals of rain averaged more than 20-inches per day. It was estimated that more than 85 inches of rain drenched different areas of South Texas. In these days, when drought is the key word and many would welcome even the slightest of tropical storms to the area, it seems incredible that Beulah could dump that much rain in only a week - more than 80 inches in some areas. Beulah was a wet storm. But, aside from the immediate tragedy, Beulah's rains helped nourish South Texas for years. Maybe it's time for another "wet one?"

If Beulah was a "rain storm," than Celia was a "wind storm." On Aug. 3, 1970, it roared into Corpus Christi with a fury that city had not seen since the 1919 storm and has not experienced since. Winds hit 130+ mph. It spawned dozens of tornadoes. Its devastation was clear, once the morning sun hit what had once been the Sparkling City by the Sea.

My friends and I spent the night the storm hit Corpus Christi at our rent house down Santa Gertrudis Ave. on 4th St. We didn't expect much from the storm. We had heard, from TV news reports, that it was "small and losing strength." Hurricane Celia developed from a tropical wave moving through the Caribbean, becoming a tropical depression on July 31 and a tropical storm on August 1. In the Gulf of Mexico, it rapidly became a major hurricane, but weakened steadily to an 85 mph hurricane. It didn't seem too dangerous, so few people evacuated the area and we, down in Kingsville, felt safer than a sparrow on a nest high on a South Texas oak. On August 3, it again rapidly strengthened to a major hurricane, this time reaching 130 mph winds prior to its Texas landfall. Celia would kill 20 people.

Back in Kingsville, we went about our normal routine - class, dinner, dates, TV, drink and tell tall tales. The night was tranquil. We heard from TV that the storm would hit the Corpus Christi area late that night or early in the morning. Little did we know that the small compact storm would gain strength and would be one of the most powerful storms to hit the area. The morning of Aug. 3 was quiet in Kingsville. Kingsville had been spared but there was no one on the streets. It was sunny, but there was an ominous feeling around. We woke up and turned on the TV. Nothing. We turned to our favorite radio stations - KUNO 1400 AM in Spanish and KEYS 1440 AM with rock 'n' roll tunes. Nothing. We scanned the radio looking for a station. Finally, through the static came the loud and clear voice of Andy Cook on Kingsville radio station KINE 1330 AM. It would be the only station on the air in South Texas for three days and the only source of information. The first words we heard were: "Corpus Christi has been destroyed . . ." Cook's crisp and definitely distinct radio voice went on to describe the horror the residents of Corpus Christi and the upper Coastal Bend area like Aransas Pass and Mathis felt. He had a straight connection to the Department of Public Safety and the National Guard that had been called up - within 24 hours - to prevent looting and set up spots for people to be treated medically and distribute ice and food. For at least three days, Andy Cook was the voice of South Texas to all those in the immediate Corpus Christi area. Eloquently, and with little rest, he told the story of the hurricane's impact. It was a story of sheer destruction, death and desolation.

The statistical toll taken by Celia was nothing short of staggering: The American Red Cross estimates now that 65,000 families suffered losses; the area took property damage totaled at $500 million in 1970 dollars; almost 9,000 homes were destroyed and some 55,600 homes suffered damage ranging from major to minor. Crop losses -- the storm hit during a harvest season -- were in the millions of dollars. More than 4,000 people were forced to seek shelter. There were many deaths - 20 became the official number.

But added to that toll in numbers was simply the shock for thousands of residents of having their homes, their livelihood, their possessions, perhaps their life's work, wiped out in one terror-filled August evening.

The Corpus Christi Caller-Times reported on the eeriness of the storm like this: "When darkness came -- as dark and as quiet a night as ever fell on Corpus Christi -- those who had survived were simply thankful to be alive. There was no electric or telephone service in many area cities. There was no place to buy ice."

Slowly, we got word from inside Corpus Christi. DPS officers would come to eat at the Round Table, a popular eating spot on 14th Street at the time, or stop for burgers and sandwiches at the Gridiron or Young's Pizza near the university on Santa Gertrudis. As they exchanged shifts, the shared the horror stories. We heard that one of our favorite watering holes when we would go to Corpus Christi for "fun" was giving away free beer while it was still cold, the day after the storm. The place was called Vernon's and still exists today. It was one of the few "bright" stories in the gloom that followed.

We were shocked. The roads to Corpus Christi were blocked. Many of us had family there and wanted to go help, but no one was getting past Robstown on the south and west and the Chapman Ranch entry was flooded and guarded vigilantly by the Texas Army National Guard. No one, except in an official capacity was getting in or out of Corpus Christi. We felt we had to make contact. We got an idea. We had press passes for working with the university newspaper - The South Texan. I even had one that was "approved" or "sanctioned" by the Texas Department of Public Safety. Surely, they would let us in. Kingsville still had electricity so we loaded up our ice chests with clean pure ice. Just in case, we filled one with Lone Star and Schlitz beers. We bought some bread, baloney, cheese and other canned goods and headed north to Corpus Christi. Sure enough, we got through. We had cameras and credentials and qualified as official journalists.

We drove slowly down Highway 44, now going east. We worked our way toward Leopard Street, Old Brownsville Road and Morgan. My uncle lived on Old Brownsville Road. It was a beautiful house with brick all around. Behind him, on Guatemozin St., lived the rest of the family. We passed by slowly, and saw nothing. I remember telling my friends, "I don't see my uncle's house." We were in area just across from Del Mar Tech. There was debris everywhere. We circled next to what used to be the old airport, now the state school and drove down Guatemozin. There was my other family's home. An oak tree had pierced the roof and was clearly stuck in the living room, its branches reaching, so it seemed, to all the rooms in the house. They were so glad to see me, us. We had come with supplies. "Mira, es Memito (Look, it's Manuel Jr.)," I remember Tio Beto shouting to the cheers and anxious eyes of other family members who all had distant looks on their faces as they set outside in what was left of the lawn in the blistering August Texas heat. They, honestly, did not know how they were going to survive. All were huddled around what they now fondly called "the tree house," as if they were waiting for help. That day, Aug. 5, we were the help. They were so grateful for the ice, especially, and all the canned goods and baloney and bread we had brought. They invited us to eat. We politely declined. This trip was for them. We even let them have the ice chest full of beer - at least 36 cans (maybe Adan drank one or two). My uncle Beto savored one and then said most of the neighborhood cantinas down Port and Leopard had been "wiped out" and that some "borachos" were picking up cans of beer on the street. "Now we can enjoy our beers in our tree house," he said smiling, letting out a roaring laugh we had always associated him with. He had such a good nature. I miss him. In the turmoil, it was good to hear him laugh. We helped clean up a bit and then said good bye. We took pictures for our story. They ran that week in The South Texan. Celia, was truly devastating to Corpus Christi and, just as Andy Cook said that gloomy morning, "Corpus Christi ha(s)d been destroyed.

As we drove around town taking pictures for our story, we came to realize the full extent of the disaster and damage. The people that we saw certainly felt despair. There was debris, and rubble all around. TV towers had been knocked down. Downtown was a like a war zone. Windows and doors had been ripped from skyscrapers. The once beautiful bay front had palm tree leaves and limbs littered all around and it seemed as if Corpus Christi Bay had vomited on the city's prized street - Ocean Drive.

It would take weeks, make that months, of clean-up of downed trees, restoring of power, clearing debris, of toiling in the late summer heat, of waiting in long lines to obtain precious ice before any semblance of normality would return.

We came back to Kingsville, thankful that none of our family members were killed or injured. We had heard what they had to do, each one of them, to survive. Their stories seemed surreal. One of my uncles said that their entire house was lifted, made a 360-degree turn while in the air and then dropped in a neighbor's back yard while they were in the house. That explained why I didn't see the house on Old Brownsville Road.

On the way back, we drove through Kingsville and other South Texas towns south of Corpus Christi to see if could find any other signs for destruction. There were none. This small compact storm had picked Corpus Christi and the area directly west and north of it to attack.

We came back to the South Texan office and started developing the film and writing our stories. For days, we were dazed.

Hurricane Beulah and Hurricane Celia were killer storms. I know many of us would welcome the rain from tropical storm or hurricane, but I don't think any of us wants the likes of the wrath of those two storms to visit our area soon.

What do you think? How do you feel?