"Knocked down... OH, HE CAUGHT IT! OHHHH, UNBELIEVABLE! MIKE THOMAS! TOUCHDOWN, JAGS! BALLGAME! FIFTY YARDS! WHOAA!"

How do you explain to a hipster what it feels like to be a part of something like this? How do you tell them, "Yes, that's right, me. This happened to me." They're so worried about the tightness of their frayed jean shorts and the fixed nature of their lone bicycle gear that they forget it's cool to be enthusiastic about some things in life. And it bothers me.

Who is Mike Thomas?

I don't have a problem with people being different or Austin being kept weird, but I just hate closed mindedness when it comes to accepting the fact that for some people, moments like the Garrard-Thomas Hail Mary are on the "Where were you when?" level.

I'll tell you exactly where I was: at Tony's house, sitting in the black recliner that is slowly but surely burrowing a hole into Nicks' room

I watched that happen about four hours late. We recorded the game, because I had to go to brunch with my cousins today, and would have missed the first half. There are only 16 Texans games a year, and I don't want to miss even that much of one. But I also relish the rare opportunities for large family gatherings. And so, once again, today proved a great example of why, next to the guaranteed knowledge that I'll always have Cialis when I get older, the invention of DVR is hands down the luckiest thing about being born in my generation.

After my brunch was over, D-Rod and I decided to just go play tennis and watch the game together after that. We were in the middle of having a great day when we rolled over to the house to watch it.

Nick was sitting on the couch with the Dallas game on when we strolled in, but was in the middle of an online poker tournament and put up no resistance to handing over the remote. He had already seen the whole thing, of course, and even with distracted attention, would be sitting through the most heartbreaking loss in franchise history for the second time in one afternoon. And he never gave it away, not for a second.

His girlfriend Allie was there too, and she also ended up watching it for the second time (though she doesn't give a shit about the Texans). David was upstairs in his room. He spent the majority of the time working, but he came down when he needed to.

Like right before this moment.

"I watched the whole thing over just so I could see your reaction," Nick admitted later.

"We were expecting something a little more ... violent," Allie said.

"I thought there'd be stomping, cursing," David said.

"Yeah, like my computer getting thrown out the window or something," Nick added.

What can I say? As Ali Faroukmanesh,

2010 NCAA Tournament

Jason Richardson,

2010 Western Conference Finals

and Landon Donvan would know,


∫

No words.

I have a reputation for unintended violence when crazy stuff goes down during sports games.

Just ask Nick, Jasmine or Korena, respectively.

That's not what happened today, though. Instead, "it was like you weren't even watching the screen," as Allie put it. "I was watching your face the whole time, and your expression honestly did not change at all." She put her face in her hands, and stared blankly, mimicking me.

"It was just like, absolute shock," Nick said.

It had all happened so fast.

-------------------------------------------------------------

"Y'all don't happen to be Texans fans do you?"

The couple sitting at that table certainly didn't look like Texans fan, or even sports fans for that matter, but I wanted to commiserate, and they were the only ones nearby. This is how the hipster couple and I met, at Bouldin Creek, the coffee shop where general revolutions are plotted.

"Nah," the guy said. He wasn't smiling, and neither was his girlfriend, who just shook her hand in silence. I doubt she even understood the question.

I continued talking.

"Do you want to see what happened to me tonight?"

It was clear that the video I was trying to play for them was a clip from a football game, and that I am not a football player. So the girl asked, "What happened to you?", clearly showing she didn't understand what was going on.

"Yeah that's right, to me," I said. "As a fan. Watch this." Play, full screen. "This was the low point of my career as a Houston Texans fan." Watch it, damnit.

You know when you try to start joking with someone you don't know, and you assume that the worst case scenario is a polite smile? And then they don't even give you that; they just stare at you blankly, making no pretense about the fact that they would prefer to have been left alone. I hate those moments. Especially when you feel you have to keep the joke going, lest you admit that you lost.

The ball is snapped, Garrard steps back, and lets it fly -- they're just staring, blank faces. The ball is flying through the air, heading in the direction of the end zone -- blank faces, probably longing for the days before I'd entered their lives. I'm looking right at these people as they look at the screen. And they know something crazy is about to happen, but they look very uninterested.

After the catch, and the ensuing celebration, and the replay, I still never got even the slightest nod from the girl. She definitely is the kind of person that has bumper stickers preaching about spirituality, politics and recycling, and yet won't give you the wave when you let her in.

David freaking Garrard. To Mike Thomas. Who is Mike Thomas?

Having your heart ripped out on DVR is an experience I wouldn't wish upon anybody. But really, today was nothing compared to the last DVR'ed Houston sporting even that counted as a "Where where you when ... you wanted to shoot your face off?" moment. That was Game 5 of the 2005 NLCS. Yes, that game.

The "largo home run de Pujols" game.

The Texans' 31-24 loss to Jackonsville today wasn't anywhere on the same level as the Pujols home run. I won't even insult the gravity of that moment, and the effect it had on my pscyhe, by trying to equate the two as being responsible for an identical emotional response. But I can say this with utmost confidence: Today was every Houston Texans fan's low point.

This is in the entire history of the franchise, not this era, or even this season. Vince Young's OT touchdown run was ironic, Kris Brown on Monday night against Tennessee last season was angering, but the Garrard-Thomas 50-yard Hail Mary with 0:03 on the clock was simply a reverse miracle.

What if: Dreessen doesn't fumble? A coin toss, an overtime period, a chance. What if: Antonio Davis doesn't run offsides on the first attempt to run that play, called "Rebound," and give Jacksonville a spot five yards closer to the goal line? I doubt Mike Thomas runs it in from the eight.

What if: the Texans were good at football?