Friday, Jan. 28, 2005: My flu was coming on. Fever, cold sweats, caving joints the bitter wind whipping the flags outside the Frank Erwin Center wasnt helping matters.
Inside, whipped up a scene straight out When We Were Kings, the James Brown-soundtracked Muhammad Ali documentary immortalizing 1974s Rumble in the Jungle. Last night, as events unfolded in similar fashion 16,746 blood-hungry ticket holders engulfing the sold-out UT drum Thrilla in Manilla, Ali and Joe Fraziers heavyweight sequel in the Philippines the following year, pingponged through my much clearer head. The four-corner stage standing in the middle of Austins biggest concert venue focused all adulation to the center. When George Strait walked out onto it at 9:25pm Jan. 10, 2008 in his starched white shirt, not one hollering Texan doubted his championship form for one minute. If Bob Wills Is Still the King of the Lone Star State, then Straits commander-in-chief.
Kicking off his current tour here in the capital, Strait looked as though his sea legs werent quite all there yet. The spectacle remained the same Roman Coliseum boxing match so a fistful of song walkthroughs by the country music monarch went as unaccounted for as the sixth, seventh, and eighth beer down the gullet of the starched shirt next to me. Microphones at each corner of the stage rotated Strait at two tunes a pop. After a particularly strong number, Strait assumed a three-point stance: point to these rafters, pivot, point to those rafters, pivot, point at Longhorns coach Mack Brown in the first three rows stageside. Straits easy strut between mics was Big Cat.
I was counting em up today, announced the man of few words at the three-quarter mark. Been touring 20 [cough] eight years. 90 minutes plus three encores, glided through by his 11-piece Ace in the Hole Band, couldve been from U2 or Rolling Stones. Forever Straitman fiddler and local Gene Elders faced off with the head honcho more than once. Hope we dont leave any of your favorites out, smiled Strait. Hope you have favorites. Sure: opener Shell Leave You With a Smile, third slot Check Yes or No, and the setlist firestarter, No. 6, Carrying Your Love With Me. They came at three-minute intervals, Shea Stadium Beatlesque, accompanied by high-pitched encouragement: Amarillo by Morning, the piano and pedal steel-kissed Honk If You Honky Tonk, Does Fort Worth Ever Cross Your Mind, Bruce Robison’s million-seller Wrapped, I Can Still Make Cheyenne, and show stopper I Hate Everything. Sandwiched in the encore triumvirate, Johnny Cashs Folsom Prison Blues landed the knockout punch.
This article appears in January 11 • 2008.



