By David Housel as it was printed in the 1972 Auburn-Georgia game program
Do you believe in inanimate objects coming to life, taking on human characteristics, walking, talking and laughing? Well, neither did I - until I saw it happen.
It all took place one night as I took a short cut through Cliff Hare Stadium on my walk from the Athletic Department, leaning against a goal post, I saw a man-sized Tiger. He wore a blue football jersey, number '72 on the front, "Auburn" on the back, an he was puffing contentedly on a cigar.
You may not believe what follows, but this is what happened the night the fog rolled in, the hoot owls hooted, Samford Clock struck 13 and the Auburn Tiger spoke:
"Hello there, I'm Aubie, the Auburn Tiger. Don't look so surprised. You know me. At least you ought too. I've been on the cover of your football program for 13 years.
Hear you're gonna write a story about a buddy of mine, ole Phil Neel. I'm glad. He deserves some recognition. To tell the truth, I've felt kinda bad all these years, me being on the cover and all and ole Phil, the only thing he got on there was his name. And it's scrawled down in the bottom some place where nobody will see it unless they are looking for it. I tried to get him to change it one time, but he wouldn't. Said that's the way cartoonists do it.
Sit down big man and I'll tell you about me and Phil. Care for a cigar?
I really wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Phil. He's my creator - that means he draws me. Phil's done a lot for me in the last 13 years. When we started out, I was mean, but I wasn't too smart. I'd just jump out and whup-up on whoever happened to be around. Now I'm sophisticated, thanks to Phil, you know, refined and cultured.
Your name's Housel, isn't it? Yeah, I thought so. Got a light there, Housel? My cigar's gone out.
Back to my story. I remember when me and Phil first got together. Back in 1959 it was...heh...heh...we sure surprised some folks that first game. Hardin Simmons I think it was. Yes. Called themselves Cowboys. I - me and Phil - really worked on them. Those "cowboys" found out that "Cowboys and Tigers" is a lot rougher than "Cowboys and Indians". Us Tigers are smarter than Indians: we don't run around in circles when we fight.
Well, we've done the program cover ever since. I've made Alabama's Red Elephant jump through a circus hoop and I've practiced Boy Scout knots on that scoundrel's trunk - Man, that was fun. I - me and Phil - have de-stingered quite a few Yellow Jackets and we squeezed some Big Oranges from Tennessee. Never will forget that head transplant we tried on that State Bulldog. Didn't work - Too bad, but those things happen. That other 'Dog, "UGA" I believe was his name, he didn't like being crammed into that ole flea bag. Heh, Heh...those folks over in Athens haven't gotten over that yet. Can't say as I blame them.
Give me another light, Housel, my cigar went out again. They don't make stogies like they used to. Hows yours?
Your readers are probably gonna want to know where Phil and I get our ideas for the program cover year after year. That's his department. He works up at the Birmingham Post-Herald - be sure and tell the folks that - se he's up on the latest news items and catchy sayings.
Yeah, folks might wonder how he draws the cartoons and gets the color so good, but they'll just have to keep on wondering. It's too complicated for you to understand and how you gonna explain it to them when you don't understand it yourself? Just tell then that every color is a mixture of red, yellow and blue, and Phil draws a separate picture for every color. Then the folks out at Auburn Printing Co. put them together like a map puzzle. Phil doesn't ever see the cover until he gets down to the game. If it's too bad, I guess one of his boys, Mike or Rick, might call him after practice on Friday and warn him. Now don't ask me no more technical questions like that, Housel. Understand?
Me and Phil's got some favorite covers. We both liked the 1969 Alabama cover, the one where I blasted the "High Tide". Squeezing the Big Orange was one of our favorites too, but, all in all, I guess we've had the most fun with ole Cousin Clem from Clemson.
We had a big Tiger homecoming a couple years ago and when he got here, I surprised him with a big ole exploding cigar. He was singed for a week.
Give me another light, Housel. Thanks.
In 1967, the International Brotherhood of Tigers met here in the stadium and Clem had a most unfortunate "accident". I "accidentally" stuck that membership pin right through the poor boy's heart. Heh..heh, of course it was an accident. What kind of cousin do you think I am anyway?
Clem and I were going to put on an acrobatic show at the half-time one year, but it didn't come off. We had another accident. I outweighed him quite a bit and I just plain mashed him in the ground when he tried to catch me in practice.
Last year was the breaking point for Clem. I don't know when he'll come back to see us - if ever. We had a "family planning conference" to talk about the population problem. I - me and Phil - decided to eliminate Clem's side of the family - with a bomb. He didn't appreciate that too much.
Glad you came by, Housel. I was out of matches. Mind if I keep these? Thanks. When you see Thurston down at the equipment room, be sure to tell him to keep the gate locked at night. I don't like to be bothered.
Oh, by the way, here are some pictures from my scrapbook you might want to run with the story on me and Phil.
See you around."
You might not believe it, but that's the way it happened.
It all took place one night as I took a short cut through Cliff Hare Stadium on my walk from the Athletic Department, leaning against a goal post, I saw a man-sized Tiger. He wore a blue football jersey, number '72 on the front, "Auburn" on the back, an he was puffing contentedly on a cigar.
You may not believe what follows, but this is what happened the night the fog rolled in, the hoot owls hooted, Samford Clock struck 13 and the Auburn Tiger spoke:
"Hello there, I'm Aubie, the Auburn Tiger. Don't look so surprised. You know me. At least you ought too. I've been on the cover of your football program for 13 years.
Hear you're gonna write a story about a buddy of mine, ole Phil Neel. I'm glad. He deserves some recognition. To tell the truth, I've felt kinda bad all these years, me being on the cover and all and ole Phil, the only thing he got on there was his name. And it's scrawled down in the bottom some place where nobody will see it unless they are looking for it. I tried to get him to change it one time, but he wouldn't. Said that's the way cartoonists do it.
Sit down big man and I'll tell you about me and Phil. Care for a cigar?
I really wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Phil. He's my creator - that means he draws me. Phil's done a lot for me in the last 13 years. When we started out, I was mean, but I wasn't too smart. I'd just jump out and whup-up on whoever happened to be around. Now I'm sophisticated, thanks to Phil, you know, refined and cultured.
Your name's Housel, isn't it? Yeah, I thought so. Got a light there, Housel? My cigar's gone out.
Back to my story. I remember when me and Phil first got together. Back in 1959 it was...heh...heh...we sure surprised some folks that first game. Hardin Simmons I think it was. Yes. Called themselves Cowboys. I - me and Phil - really worked on them. Those "cowboys" found out that "Cowboys and Tigers" is a lot rougher than "Cowboys and Indians". Us Tigers are smarter than Indians: we don't run around in circles when we fight.
Well, we've done the program cover ever since. I've made Alabama's Red Elephant jump through a circus hoop and I've practiced Boy Scout knots on that scoundrel's trunk - Man, that was fun. I - me and Phil - have de-stingered quite a few Yellow Jackets and we squeezed some Big Oranges from Tennessee. Never will forget that head transplant we tried on that State Bulldog. Didn't work - Too bad, but those things happen. That other 'Dog, "UGA" I believe was his name, he didn't like being crammed into that ole flea bag. Heh, Heh...those folks over in Athens haven't gotten over that yet. Can't say as I blame them.
Give me another light, Housel, my cigar went out again. They don't make stogies like they used to. Hows yours?
Your readers are probably gonna want to know where Phil and I get our ideas for the program cover year after year. That's his department. He works up at the Birmingham Post-Herald - be sure and tell the folks that - se he's up on the latest news items and catchy sayings.
Yeah, folks might wonder how he draws the cartoons and gets the color so good, but they'll just have to keep on wondering. It's too complicated for you to understand and how you gonna explain it to them when you don't understand it yourself? Just tell then that every color is a mixture of red, yellow and blue, and Phil draws a separate picture for every color. Then the folks out at Auburn Printing Co. put them together like a map puzzle. Phil doesn't ever see the cover until he gets down to the game. If it's too bad, I guess one of his boys, Mike or Rick, might call him after practice on Friday and warn him. Now don't ask me no more technical questions like that, Housel. Understand?
Me and Phil's got some favorite covers. We both liked the 1969 Alabama cover, the one where I blasted the "High Tide". Squeezing the Big Orange was one of our favorites too, but, all in all, I guess we've had the most fun with ole Cousin Clem from Clemson.
We had a big Tiger homecoming a couple years ago and when he got here, I surprised him with a big ole exploding cigar. He was singed for a week.
Give me another light, Housel. Thanks.
In 1967, the International Brotherhood of Tigers met here in the stadium and Clem had a most unfortunate "accident". I "accidentally" stuck that membership pin right through the poor boy's heart. Heh..heh, of course it was an accident. What kind of cousin do you think I am anyway?
Clem and I were going to put on an acrobatic show at the half-time one year, but it didn't come off. We had another accident. I outweighed him quite a bit and I just plain mashed him in the ground when he tried to catch me in practice.
Last year was the breaking point for Clem. I don't know when he'll come back to see us - if ever. We had a "family planning conference" to talk about the population problem. I - me and Phil - decided to eliminate Clem's side of the family - with a bomb. He didn't appreciate that too much.
Glad you came by, Housel. I was out of matches. Mind if I keep these? Thanks. When you see Thurston down at the equipment room, be sure to tell him to keep the gate locked at night. I don't like to be bothered.
Oh, by the way, here are some pictures from my scrapbook you might want to run with the story on me and Phil.
See you around."
You might not believe it, but that's the way it happened.
