Show Me Something - The Sophie Cunningham Classic kicks off & West Wilson’s Montana State crowned FCS champs

I opened with a full-on cowboy moment that turned into sticker shock. After a friendly twenty percent off, the brown hat I loved rang up to one thousand eighty dollars, so yes, I’m wearing it everywhere, free case and all.

Welcome back, it feels like ages. I just got home from Nashville where we played in a title game that was absolute chaos in the best way.

We jumped out early, got dragged into overtime, blocked a late kick and an extra point, then hit a fourth-and-ten shot for the win and rings. That kind of ending, plus seeing the ‘84 champs and a sea of friends, made it unreal.

Close ones hit different. A blowout is easy, but this kind of roller coaster makes it unforgettable.

Illinois State came in unseeded, knocked out heavyweights on the road, and pushed us. It’s cool knowing our guys now get the forever treatment those ‘84 legends have in Bozeman.

Holidays were low-pressure and great. We skipped gifts, planned a family trip, and let the little nieces soak up the toys.

We switched to a Secret Santa at my grandma’s and it was way better. My niece loved a Jellycat plush so much she gave me a two-armed hug and made my night.

We’ve got childcare covered because my wife’s mom lives with us, and her calm I’ve-seen-it-all vibe steadies our kid when my chaos leaks through.

Travel tried to finish me. I caught what felt like shrimp-cocktail food poisoning, ran into your brother at the gate while I looked ghostly, barely survived the connection, then watched a woman absolutely lose it all over a bar on New Year’s—like a movie, but grosser.

There’s relief when it’s not you. One of my buddies in Nashville got carried out two of three nights and learned to nurse one beer the third.

I sprinted through three locked doors at midnight and left a trail before I made it outside, so yeah, I lost the New Year’s kiss.

Style note from the title game: I’ve been on a tie kick, so I did a button-up, school colors, vintage layer, baggy jeans, and a fur coat because when else can you wear that in January.

New Year’s was a KC wedding, which is way easier than planning the night yourself—dress up, open bar, midnight built in. I panic-kissed Craig at twelve and Charlotte just laughed.

On the Chiefs move, it stings watching a team called Kansas City slide across the line while still using Missouri’s skyline, food, and parade routes for the cameras. The deal reads like a giveaway.

Arrowhead isn’t some dusty relic; it’s actively the loudest, a bucket-list venue where banners went up and TV folks beg to work. Leaving that for a dome feels soulless.

People tout hosting Super Bowls like it matters to fans; it really doesn’t. Football belongs outside and the culture is the point.

It hurts, but I won’t stop supporting. It’s always lived in Missouri, so seeing Kansas on the dateline pokes at me.

Facilities are nice, but history fuels players. Arrowhead is a Madison Square Garden moment where you feel who came before you, and that’s part of our Midwest sports backbone.

He kept asking locals to foot it with taxes instead of paying himself, voters balked, and the player report cards graded the team poorly on investment. Renovations at Arrowhead were possible if he wanted them.

We need sharp business minds and true sports people in the same room. Otherwise, tradition gets priced out.

Billionaires don’t have to care about blue-collar diehards, and that gap shows. It’s why this feels personal to the city and like math to him.

Quick positive pivot. I’m hosting a high school girls hoops classic at Columbia College with top national teams, college coaches in town, and I’ll be on site all weekend so the girls can ask questions and soak it up.

Shoutout to Montana State’s first ladies, Heather and Molly. They’re classy, warm, check on me at events, and deserve rings too.

I’m heading to the Capitol to be introduced as a Famous Missourian and want to lean Western. I learned about women’s breakaway roping needing their own event, met the athletes, and supported the vendors—then got ambushed by that beautiful brown hat price, so I’m committed to rocking it.

Do a sharp suit or dress and let the brown hat be the star. I’ve got a green Bozeman hat I love too, and my dad taught us backyard roping, so the Western itch makes sense.

Playoff picks: I’ll ride with Seattle for our Bobcat at safety, and I could live with Denver because my old roommate starts there. If New England made a run, maybe they’d soak up some of the national hate again.

I’ll lean Niners because I’ve got friends there and love that group. Let the Chiefs reset, heal up, and come back hungry.

Stay tuned on the outfit—black or brown hat?

Go brown, you paid for it and it looks great. Shower, send pics, and we’ll see everyone soon.