Texas Star Colin Simmons' Imaginary Urinal

Texas Star Colin Simmons Condemns “Look at Me” Society After Personally Introducing 102,000 People to His Imaginary Urinal

Longhorns defensive star records five sacks, one bathroom pantomime and the fastest transition from All-American to rest-stop performance artist in recent SEC history.

The richest comic seam here is Colin Simmons himself: a Communication & Leadership major, national award candidate, elite pass rusher and, for several unforgettable seconds Saturday, a man apparently determined to turn Neyland Stadium into Buc-ee’s without the brisket.

Simmons carries an On3 NIL Valuation of $2.5 million, a figure that describes his projected annual market value rather than a reported salary or contract. That is still plenty of money for our comic purposes. At $2.5 million, somebody can presumably afford an actual restroom.

Colin Simmons Introduces the Nation’s First $2.5 Million Restroom Mime

KNOXVILLE, Tenn. — Civilization Survives Another Saturday.

America gathered Saturday for college football and received something larger: a seminar in modern celebrity, personal branding and the mysterious psychological condition that causes a 246-pound defensive superstar to sack a quarterback and immediately think, “You know what this moment needs? Plumbing.”

Colin Simmons had just accomplished something difficult.

He had beaten Tennessee’s protection, reached the quarterback and recorded another sack during what Awful Announcing reports became a five-sack afternoon in a Texas win at Neyland Stadium. He didn’t just tackle the quarterback, by his own logic he quackled the tarterback.

Most athletes might celebrate by pumping a fist.

Maybe roar.

Maybe embrace a teammate.

Simmons apparently surveyed the available options and thought, “No. America has seen tackling. America requires theater.”

Then came the pantomime.

The flag followed.

And somewhere, Marcel Marceau rolled over and whispered, “Even I had standards.”

The referee was consequently forced to announce an unsportsmanlike-conduct penalty for “simulating using the restroom.” Taken literally, that ruling means the Southeastern Conference now officially regulates imaginary plumbing.

There are sentences that prove human civilization has advanced.

“We landed on the moon.”

“We sequenced the human genome.”

“We eradicated smallpox.”

And then there is:

“Unsportsmanlike conduct, defense, Number One, simulating using the restroom.”

That announcement traveled through Neyland Stadium’s speakers because several thousand years of Western civilization, philosophy, law, science and indoor plumbing finally produced the precise conditions necessary for a football official to adjudicate make-believe urination.

Organizers had, fittingly, billed the day as “Checker Neyland,” a promotion celebrating the stadium’s black-and-orange checkerboard pattern. By the second quarter, one wag in the press box had rechristened it Leakerboard Neyland, and the nickname, regrettably, fit.

Why Colin Simmons’s Communication & Leadership Major Suddenly Makes Sense

Texas lists Simmons’s major as Communication & Leadership.

This is almost unfair to satire.

You couldn’t improve it.

He isn’t studying geology.

He isn’t studying accounting.

He isn’t studying plumbing.

Communication & Leadership.

Well, he communicated.

Nobody is disputing that.

A stadium understood him instantaneously, proving perhaps that nonverbal communication deserves greater emphasis in the curriculum.

The leadership component is less clear.

Perhaps Texas now teaches servant leadership, transformational leadership and what administrators call Transactional Lavatorial Leadership, in which a leader motivates colleagues by costing them fifteen yards.

Imagine the oral examination.

Professor: “Mr. Simmons, explain how a leader inspires collective achievement.”

Simmons: “Teamwork.”

Professor: “Excellent.”

Simmons: “Unless you get a really good sack.”

Professor: “Go on.”

Simmons: “Then everybody watches me pretend to use a toilet.”

Professor: “We’re going to need the dean.”

Colin Simmons and Five Sacks Buy Considerable Moral Flexibility

Coach Steve Sarkisian’s response deserves framing in the Smithsonian.

“We took him out. We addressed it, and put him back in,” Sarkisian said, adding that he wasn’t going to give Simmons the “death penalty” over an unsportsmanlike penalty. Then came the immortal kicker: “five sacks was pretty cool today too.”

“The kid’s got main-character syndrome, or main-stream syndrome, one of the two,” muttered an assistant coach who wished to remain unidentified.

There is big-time college football in its purest philosophical state.

We have standards.

Very serious standards.

The standards remain extremely serious right up until the offender can sack the quarterback five times.

A third-string long snapper performing the same celebration might currently be enrolled at South Dakota School of Refrigeration Repair.

Five sacks?

Well, boys make mistakes.

Seven sacks and Texas probably names a restroom after him.

Ten sacks and the governor cuts the ribbon.

Apparently Twitter Made Colin Simmons Do It

Sarkisian then expanded the culprit pool from one football player to Western civilization.

“Unfortunately, in our society right now, we live in the ‘look at me’ society,” he said while discussing social-media accounts, clicks and attention.

This presents a fascinating causal theory.

Twitter made him do it.

Before social media, football players famously disliked attention. Touchdown celebrations did not exist. Muhammad Ali whispered. Professional wrestling was conducted with monastic restraint. Deion Sanders dressed like a county tax assessor.

Then Twitter arrived.

Suddenly humanity discovered vanity.

Ancient Egyptians built pyramids because they anticipated Instagram.

Napoleon invaded Europe for engagement metrics.

Louis XIV built Versailles because his TikTok needed better lighting.

And Simmons pantomimed relieving himself because somewhere a sportswriter possessed an account on X.

This is known scientifically as The Everybody’s Fault Except the Guy Doing It Theory.

It remains extraordinarily popular among parents, politicians, celebrities and football coaches.

As Big Herschel Tatum, a self-appointed Waco etiquette consultant who has never once needed a referee to explain a penalty to him, put it flatly: “Son, in Texas we tip our hats, not our zippers.”

“Look at Me,” Says Colin Simmons, Ensuring Everybody Looks at Him

But the phrase “look at me society” is what turns the incident from merely stupid into premium comedy.

Because the performance itself was a distilled shot of LOOK AT ME.

Sack the quarterback.

Stand up.

Forget teammates.

Begin one-man performance-art tribute to indoor plumbing, SEC edition.

Then complain that society rewards attention.

That’s not hypocrisy anymore.

That’s performance art.

It resembles a man climbing onto a restaurant table, banging two frying pans together and shouting: “WHY IS EVERYBODY SO DESPERATE FOR ATTENTION THESE DAYS?”

Sir.

We were eating soup until you arrived.

The Colin Simmons Awards Committee Has Some Paperwork Ahead

There is another delicious wrinkle.

Simmons isn’t merely an elite defender. He was named to the Allstate Wuerffel Trophy watch list, college football’s premier award for community service, and to the AFCA Good Works Team, which honors players for extraordinary commitment to community service. He and his mother, Monica McCarley, founded Clay’s Color Crew, a nonprofit supporting autism resources in underserved South Dallas communities, named for his younger brother Clayton.

That work deserves credit.

It also gives Saturday’s episode extraordinary contrast.

One biography now essentially reads: Community advocate. Award-winning athlete. All-American. Autism-resource supporter. Five sacks. Pretend urination.

Human beings contain multitudes.

Walt Whitman said that.

He simply underestimated how strange the multitudes would become once the SEC got television money.

Simmons is also on the Lott IMPACT Trophy watch list. The award’s acronym stands for Integrity, Maturity, Performance, Academics, Community and Tenacity.

Performance? Outstanding.

Tenacity? Five sacks says yes.

Community? Documented.

Maturity? The committee has reportedly requested additional tape, and possibly a plumber.

Colin Simmons’s Number One Was Apparently Prophetic

Simmons wears jersey No. 1.

Again, satire has been rendered unnecessary by reality.

Of course he does.

Had he been No. 2, this story would have been catastrophic.

At least the symbolism remained anatomically consistent.

Texas should resist changing his number because sports marketing departments spend fortunes creating brand identity, and Simmons managed it organically in approximately four seconds.

Number One. The number practically writes its own merchandising, and apparently its own plumbing bill.

Children across Texas can now purchase Simmons jerseys and hear fathers say: “No, son. That’s the other meaning.”

Colin Simmons Was, At Least, Spectacularly Good

And this is what prevents the entire event from becoming merely embarrassing.

Simmons was brilliant.

Five sacks matched his own career high, and Texas left Knoxville with the win.

He was simultaneously one of the principal reasons Texas won and one of the principal reasons Texas briefly made winning more difficult.

That’s talent.

Anybody can help his team.

Anybody can hurt his team.

It takes an elite athlete to sack the quarterback and his own team’s field-position discipline in the same commercial break.

Colin Simmons’s New “Next Play Mentality”

Asked afterward about the response, Simmons said he had gotten caught up in the moment and apologized. He also invoked the football catechism: “Next play mentality. Move on.”

Wonderful.

That principle should be exported throughout society.

Forgot your anniversary? Next play mentality.

Backed through the garage door? Next play mentality.

Accidentally transferred $400,000 to a Nigerian prince? Hydrate. Watch film. Move on.

Simulated urination before 102,000 witnesses and a national television audience? Flush emotionally. Next play.

Colin Simmons Is Finally the Perfect Modern Sports Celebrity

Simmons is therefore not interesting because he’s some uniquely terrible person.

He’s interesting because he managed, in one afternoon, to embody nearly every contradiction in modern college athletics.

He’s a student receiving professional-level attention.

He’s studying leadership while committing an absurdly individual penalty.

He’s celebrated for maturity-oriented honors while producing a celebration normally associated with a Labrador encountering a fire hydrant.

He’s criticizing nobody personally, yet his coach ends up lecturing society about attention culture because Simmons attracted too much attention.

And most beautifully, he performed five extraordinary acts of athletic discipline surrounding one breathtaking act of judgment failure.

Which may actually make him the perfect representative of modern sports.

Incredible preparation.

Unbelievable physical gifts.

Millions in market value.

National television.

World-class coaching.

And still, somehow, somebody eventually restrooms his way into program history.

15 Humorous Observations: The Colin Simmons Comedy File

Simmons is majoring in Communication & Leadership. Saturday’s communication was apparently, “I have to pee,” while the leadership consisted of demonstrating the procedure.
He complained about living in a “look at me” society after performing a gesture specifically designed to make everybody look at him. This is like setting yourself on fire during a lecture about excessive attention-seeking.
He produced five sacks and one sack-related bladder documentary. Historians must now add an asterisk reading, “Also briefly became a mime outside a closed Chevron restroom.”
The referee had to announce “simulating using the restroom” to an entire stadium. Imagine studying the NCAA rulebook for twenty years only to discover your professional destiny is publicly adjudicating invisible urination.
Simmons apologized by explaining he was “feeling myself.” That is the sort of phrase lawyers beg clients never to use immediately after an incident involving imaginary trousers.
He is on the Lott IMPACT Trophy watch list, where IMPACT includes Integrity and Maturity. Nothing tests Maturity quite like having a referee explain your pretend bathroom break on national television.
He is also a Wuerffel Trophy watch-list honoree and Good Works Team candidate. By weekday, community service; by Saturday, interpretive plumbing.
Sarkisian blamed the broader “look at me” culture and social media. Twitter apparently reached through the television, seized Simmons’s hips and forced him into a highly specific plumbing-themed celebration.
Sarkisian removed him, addressed it, then put him back in. This is college football’s version of restorative justice: “Think about what you’ve done. Okay, Tennessee has the ball. Get back out there.”
Sarkisian also observed that five sacks were pretty cool. There, ladies and gentlemen, is the entire disciplinary code of big-time football condensed into eight words.
Simmons is 6-foot-3, 246 pounds and reportedly exceptionally explosive. Saturday demonstrated that scouts should perhaps specify which kind.
His jersey number is 1. Appropriate. The celebration did indeed involve Number One.
The penalty gave Tennessee a fresh first down. Simmons defeated Tennessee’s quarterback, then briefly joined Tennessee’s offense. That’s versatility.
He said afterward, “Next play mentality. Move on.” Socrates had “know thyself.” Descartes had “I think, therefore I am.” College football now has “Pretend to pee, then move on.”
The real comic miracle is that Texas survived it, with Simmons matching his own single-game sack high and ensuring the incident will forever occupy that beautiful sports category called “incredibly stupid thing done by incredibly talented person.”

Sources

This piece is American satire inspired by a real college-football incident. The game result, penalty, Simmons’s five-sack performance, academic major, NIL valuation, public apology and documented community-service honors are factual scaffolding; the fictional Waco commentator, the imaginary dean’s meeting, the plumbing metaphysics and the awards-committee paperwork are comedy, built the way American satirical journalism usually builds things: around one very real red flag.

Auf Wiedersehen, amigo!

For more transatlantic mockery of institutions behaving badly, visit The London Prat.

Bohiney News

Texas Star Colin Simmons’ Imaginary Urinal

ByAlan Nafzger