Oh deer, another loss for the Gamecocks

Several years ago, my wife threatened to quit going to University of South Carolina football games.

It wasn't for the reason most of us Gamecock fans have felt the same way at one time or another — because the 'Cocks always seem to find a way to LOSE.

No, winning or losing didn't seem to faze Sherry.

It was something else.

"If you don't quit getting so mad and upset when we lose, I'm not going to go anymore," she announced during one of my tirades on the way back to Gaffney after yet another loss.

I decided right then and there that I would mend my ways — I wouldn't let my emotions get the better of me. It is only a game, I told myself. (Words that my father and son keep repeating to me.)

And I've done pretty good since I made that pledge. I've had a few moments, though, when my temper did flare, but I haven't thrown the tantrums I used to.

And this football season, I've been particularly well-behaved. That good behavior all ended the Saturday after Thanksgiving during the Carolina- Clemson game.

I was fine for the first few minutes of the game and remained relatively calm after quarterback Chris Smelly's first interception. After all, I've become accustomed to those.

It was when Clemson blocked a Carolina punt that I lost it.

"@#$%@#$@!$#!!!!! I shouted and slammed my Gamecock cap down on the coffee table in front of me.

Wife Sherry appeared from the screen porch (Or is it screened porch? Or maybe screened-in porch?) Oh, well I digress. She asked in a school teacher-like manner "What's going on? The cat just came flying out of here like she was shot out of a cannon."

I realized the cat had been sitting in the chair next to me when I saw the black blur cross in front of the TV.

Bonus son Paul walked in about the same time, apparently to see what all the commotion was about.

'"What's that?" he asked, pointing to a puddle in the chair where the cat had been sitting.

Can anyone guess what happened?

I won't hold you in suspense. I scared the P#$@ out of the cat.

That was it for me. I sat back down and watched the rest of the massacre without uttering a sound. Well, not ALL of it. I went shopping with my wife at the end of the third quarter. That's how bad it was — I went shopping while a football game was on.

I'd rather watch paint dry than go shopping.

While we're on the subject of being scared, my daughter Abbie called home in tears Saturday night. Seems she and her boyfriend were on their way home from a movie when they hit a deer.

Just the day before they had been talking about the various animals they had hit in just the past few days — a turtle, a possum, a cat and a close encounter with a turkey.

Deer, though, can cause some serious damage to a car and its occupants.

My first question after "Are y'all alright?" was "Whose car are you in?"

Now, I hate to wish misfortune on anyone, but I was hoping against hope they were in her boyfriend's car. They were! Sorry about that, Mike (Stephen's dad).

Both sets of parents rushed to the scene to comfort our children. After determining the car could be driven and notifying the authorities, we decided to move the dead deer.

Did I mention the body ended up in a driveway?

By this time Paul (y'all remember Paul?) had arrived. Paul's been trying to kill a deer for several years now.

"Well, Paul, Stephen and Abbie have done something you haven't," I joked.

Then I told the boys to pull the deer into the side ditch and out of the driveway.

They looked at me like I had lost my mind. "I'm not touching that thing," one of them said. "Me either," said the other.

I wasn't exactly looking forward to it so that's why I told the boys to do it. I could tell Mike was a bit leery, too.

Just to show the boys up, though, the big, brave dads grabbed the deer and moved it.

But before we got too close, I nudged it with my foot just to make sure it was dead.

I've heard stories about 'dead' deer jumping up and attacking humans.

As brave as I wanted to appear in moving the deer, I have to be honest. If that thing had moved when I grabbed it, I doubt I'd be sitting here writing this column.

Cody Sossamon (cody@gaffneyledger.com) is publisher of The Gaffney Ledger.