University of Missouri, you need to quit it. Stop the nonsense, stop the posturing, stop pretending to be someone you’re not.

You tried this last summer, when you told us the Big 10 invited you to move north to its neighborhood. You threatened to pack up your things. We texted and called you and asked you to stay and you pretended you’re phone was on silent. Or dead, we don’t remember exactly.

Turns out, the popular kids didn’t invite you to their party. They didn’t want you there. They wanted our mutual friend – Nebraska. You were just a friend of a friend. You’re false alarm caused Colorado to run for the hills, now they live way the hell out west.

Look Missouri, we’ve been knowing each other for a long time. We butt heads, but any good friends do. Hell, I’d be worried if we didn’t. There are times we don’t speak to each other. It’s nothing personal, I mean, let’s face it, we bring out the best in each other. Something about our differences make us strangely compatible. Gosh that sounds weird.

Enough with the sap though, we both know we’re not close like that. I called in hopes of convincing you to stay in the neighborhood. I know, I know – the housing market sucks. A couple friends moved out already and it feels like this place could turn into Sandusky.

But you need to stick it out. This is where we grew up!

If you move to the Southeasternville, you’ll live on the edge of town. The people who live there are cliquey. You’ll have to earn their respect and they’ll beat up on you for a while. And even if you stay long enough, seniority rules. You’ll always be the new guy - think Baylor. That and you’ll be the third person with the last name Tiger! Sure the streets might be cleaner, the houses more lavish, but that’s not you.

Oh, and if you thought the bullies here were bad – we both hate Longhorn and Boomer – you don’t want to meet Gator and Bulldog and their little cousin Rebel. They mean harm.

Anyway, I won’t beg you. Just know that we know. We know you’re putting on a front. We’ve watched you grow up, we’ve fought it out in the streets together, we even know you’re fear of trophies. We know you.

Alright, we’re not the most popular kids. We don’t have as many televisions. We don’t have as many dollars. Just remember, though, that’s what makes us, us. When the wine cooler runs dry and you stumble back to you’re new house on a hill in Southeasternville, it’s going to get lonely. You’re really gunna wish you stayed home. You’re going to find that it’s not the house you live in, but what’s inside the house. And those you live among.

I’m sorry? Oh, my apologies, this is Kansas. Sorry, I thought you knew it was me. Did you already delete my number?