I miss? Walking into Amon G. Carter on a Saturday afternoon back in the late 80s when the metal bleachers would bake you from underneath and the whole east side would shake when we got a stop on third down. That old stadium had a feel to it, a grit that the fancy renovations just cannot replicate no matter how many suites you stack on top. I remember the 1989 season when we held Houston to 13 points in that mud game and the whole place sounded like a jet engine even though there were maybe 25,000 of us in there. These kids today walk into a shiny new facility with AC in the locker room and they have no idea what it meant to earn every single blade of grass on that field. We used to pack that old place for the SMU game and you could feel the hate in the air before the band even hit the field. That is real football, not this polished television product they sell us now.