I used to co-author a parody Twitter account called Fake Bob Petrino back in an innocent age when fake accounts were all the rage. Before Petrino’s goofy motorcycle debacle, the Razorbacks head football coach was treated as a semi-deity among the state’s press. He wore a crimson armor that protected him from all criticism. His genius rivaled only that of Socrates, Plato, and Bear Bryant. It didn’t matter that he had yet to earn wins against the SEC elite – those victories were coming!

Petrino’s success at Arkansas mirrored Arkansas State’s rise as a Group of Five pigskin power, and yes, the lack of attention from the statewide media chapped my butt and surrounding areas. I needed to give voice to my frustration, even if that voice was a counterfeit. Fake Bob Petrino was more a satire towards the press than it was to Petrino himself, of whom I knew little about. My co-writer and I tried to stick to poking fun at losses, huge P5 salaries, cowardly scheduling, hog deification and SEC worship. Still, the account was toxic enough to receive the occasional death threat (which was also a thing back in the innocent days of Twitter).

Thanks partly to Real Bob scandals, Fake Bob eventually limped into the sunset, but my obsession with bringing some kind of statewide recognition to Arkansas State continued unabated. I didn’t necessarily seek equality with the Hogs – the Razorback brand is simply to0 large and omnipresent to overcome. But I did want a more even playing field. The Red Wolves, whether the statewide media wanted to acknowledge it or not, was also an FBS program that was earning bowl bids and putting players in the NFL How did it serve Arkansans to ignore and minimize this valuable resource? If the Razorbacks were a national brand, why did it see an emerging local brand as such a threat?

It didn’t help that the University of Arkansas Athletic Department actively encouraged (financed?) this policy – through a policy known unimaginatively as The Policy, a bizarre idea that eliminating the spotlight from all other state college sports programs made the state stronger. “Now fans of the Razorbacks can be fans of UCA, and vice versa!” was the kind of Bizarro World rhetoric that emerged. Variations of this line were often repeated like Scripture. The words burned my ears before boiling my brain.

For years, I savagely cooked my beef between me and Arkansas Athletics (I didn’t then, nor do I now, have an issue with the University itself). I was accused of being a hater, and the accusations are correct. I have feelings for the Razorbacks, and it’s not love. My allegiances are with the university that provided me the skills and worldview to develop a career and raise a family. If you can’t accept that, then perhaps you are the hater.

Though the Razorbacks can never have my love (or even begrudging like), it was possible to have my respect. When Arkansas Athletics refused to play in-state schools – the bare minimum of what a state funded public “flagship” school should do – earning my respect was impossible. “Play Us” was the baseline. After all, how can you earn respect from anyone who refuses to share a field with you? The opposite of love is indifference.

I give Razorbacks baseball coach Dave Van Horn credit for breaking the ice. While looking to fill a season schedule, he publicly bemoaned the inability to schedule games with convenient in-state opponents. Why should he have to import competition when Arkansas provided so many worthwhile opponents? Without saying “The Policy is stupid,” Van Horn said The Policy is stupid.

Today A-State women’s basketball, soccer and baseball regularly dusts up with the Razorbacks. A football game between the two is set for this season, not in Fayeteville, but at War Memorial in Little Rock, which is as neutral as one can have it. Why A-State men’s basketball can’t get a game with Arkansas men’s basketball is a mystery worthy of a six-part series on Hulu.

On September 6, when Arkansas State and Arkansas football finally meet at War Memorial Stadium, the last shovel-full of grave dirt gets tossed onto my disrespect for the Razorbacks. I don’t have to like the Hogs, but at least I can respect them an honorable opponent. That actually feels kinda good. Resentment isn’t healthy, and there are far less silly enemies in this world to disrespect.

Image: An AI monstrosity