I am sure that the ghost of Walt Whitman in some ways regrets the first four words to his elegy to Abraham Lincoln. You probably remember this scene from the movie Dead Poet’s Society, where Robin Williams’ character has just been fired from his English teaching position from a private school. Williams is still in the room, packing up his things, about the exit the room where some of the students stand on their desks to protest his termination and say, “O Captain! my Captain!” as the new English teacher tells them to sit down.

Oh Captain! My Captain! is a poem by Walt Whitman written after the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. This is supposed to be a mourning poem more or less and if you know that this is about Lincoln’s death and the admiration that Whitman had for Lincoln, it makes a lot more sense.

Yesterday after the game, I tweeted Oh Captain! My Captain!. Although it is strange to compare the death of an American president and a college football head coach, I cannot think of another situation where it may be more appropriate. And so you don’t have to look this up, and for simplicity purposes, the captain is Lincoln (Kingsbury), the fearful trip is the Civil War (Leach, Hance, Tuberville, and the fallout that ensured) and the ship is the United States (Texas Tech football program). Of course, this feels all a bit premature and I also understand the morbid aspect of what I’m insinuating here, but remember, I’m writing in metaphors here, Kingsbury isn’t actually dead, he’s very much alive, but I think that his tenure at Texas Tech is nearing its end (much like Robin Williams’ character simply being fired).

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

Tweeting what I did seemed right at the time and I think it’s still correct. The weather ship in my brain is Texas Tech football, Kingsbury having guided that ship through what was one of the most turbulent times that Texas Tech has ever had, with the replacement of Tommy Tuberville, I always felt that Kingsbury righted the ship regardless as to wins or losses.

Me writing this is incredibly premature as Kingsbury is still the head coach of Texas Tech football. However, I think the writing is on the wall and to think otherwise, I think is perhaps not realistic.

Regardless as to whatever happens, Kingsbury oversaw a program that was in shambles. I’m not talking about personnel (that’s a discussion for another day, you need to let me wax poetic for a bit), I mean that as a fanbase we were simply angry. Angry that Leach had been fired. Angry that Tuberville was hired. Angry that all of this shit happened. The people in charge had absolutely ruined what was a great thing.

I get way too emotional about the current situation. I’d be lying to you if I didn’t tell you that I understood both sides of the fence. I understand the idea that you think Kingsbury should be retained because Texas Tech will never find another coach who cared and worked as hard as Kingsbury has worked for this program. Heck, it’s what makes “Oh, Captain! My Captain!” so perfect in my brain as a comparison. In a sense, Kingsbury is/was synonymous with Texas Tech football. He was the embodiment of the ship.

The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won

Kingsbury’s work ethic and really never looking up from the grindstone to have a personal life or have a personality, he navigated Texas Tech from the cluster that was Tuberville.

But I also see that last blockquoted portion as being the end of his run as well. He has done his job. The ship is anchored and it is in a better place than it was before Kingsbury arrived. Fanbases will almost always be fractured to some extent, but I think that without equivocation, most, if not all Texas Tech fans know that Kingsbury absolutely loved this program.

For those of you who are ready for Texas Tech athletic director Kirby Hocutt to make the move, I understand that too. Kingsbury has simply not won enough games. It is really as simplistic as that. The advanced stats show steady improvement of a program, but the most important statistic is still wins in a bottom line business.

I get way too emotional about this stuff. It’s borderline dumb to compare a Walt Whitman poem to a football coach, but here I am and I’m absolutely fine with it.

Sometimes sitting behind this keyboard is an absolute blessing. So many great moments and so many terrific Red Raiders that I’ve been able to meet and you’ve embraced me and my family. I am almost certain that you are appreciative of what we’ve all sort of carved out here in cyberspace and I know that I’m appreciative of all of you (Well, most of you, let’s not get carried away — Ha!).

However, today, being at this keyboard is a curse. I don’t want to have to write this. This isn’t the post that I envisioned writing in August. Kingsbury has done what no one else could have done.

Oh, Captain! My Captain!