On Saturday, May 2, my wife and I made a pilgrimage to Memorial Stadium in Clemson to see King George.
George Strait, that is. The man who has gone from mere “country singer” to legendary icon. This is a man with 60, yes 60, number one country hits including “Amarillo By Morning,” “The Chair,” “All My Exes Live In Texas,” “Ocean Front Property” and more.
And he played all of those and more during his Death Valley show, which, along with the missus and me totaled 90,037 people, the highest attendance in Clemson history, football game or no.
We enjoyed the opening sets from Wyatt Flores and Cody Johnson, but everyone knew why we were there: To pay tribute to the King.
At 9:10 p.m. on the nose, Strait’s incredible band Ace in the Hole kicked things off with an instrumental version of “Deep in the Heart of Texas” and the man himself emerged, cowboy hat high, jeans ironed (no, seriously), smiling nervously. The place absolutely exploded. I have seen a lot of concerts in my life. I have never heard adoration like I heard for George Strait that night.
And why wouldn’t he be adored? He’s a famously private man who speaks shyly but sings like a true Texas cowboy. He loves Western swing as much as country, and the man knows how to pick the right songs to sing. And he sings every word like it’s the gospel truth.
The show was an avalanche of hits and favorites, with all the songs listed above along with the heartbreaking “I Can Still Make Cheyenne,” “Check Yes Or No,” “Unwound,” “How ‘Bout Those Cowgirls,” and “Give It Away” all delivered to deafening applause.
The band was cooking, stretching out on a cover of Waylon Jennings’ “Waymore’s Blues, Pt. 1” and tearing into Tom Petty’s “You Wreck Me” as a full-on rock band. And the rotating stage, long a trademark of Strait’s shows, meant there wasn’t a bad seat in the house.
But let’s face it, this was all about King George, that shy smile and his hearty, booming baritone.
Towards the end of the show, Strait launched into another trademark tune of his, “Troubadour.” As the screens above him filled with images from Strait’s 45+ year career, he sang, “I was a young troubadour when I rode in on a song/And I’ll be an old troubadour when I’m gone.”
Strait is 73 years old, and the weight of that song sunk in as he finished; he was singing about himself, picking up that acoustic guitar in 1981 and putting his first boot on that dusty path to becoming a legend.
All hail the king. Long may he reign.
