The Texas Tech Red Raiders just won the Big 12 Championship, and with that kind of moment, it\u2019s officially time to raise the bar \u2014 not just on the field, but in how the program talks about itself.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m endlessly fascinated (and mildly entertained) by the idea that someone in Texas Tech marketing is trying to force \u201cLet\u2019s Goooo!\u201d into becoming the catchphrase of this championship era. Yes, the coach\u2019s enthusiasm is undeniably baked into those words, but no amount of extra O\u2019s is ever going to put it on the same shelf as \u201cI\u2019ll be back,\u201d \u201cCan you smell what The Rock is cookin\u2019,\u201d or \u201cJust do it.\u201d Those phrases were owned. Claimed. Instantly recognizable.<\/p>\n
\u201cLet\u2019s go,\u201d on the other hand, is something humanity has been saying since the invention of doors. We say it when we leave the house, start work, or urge someone to hurry up in a parking lot. And once you start spelling it \u201cGoooo,\u201d you\u2019ve created a new, very real dilemma: how many O\u2019s is correct, and who\u2019s enforcing it?<\/p>\n
Catchphrases Should Feel Earned, Not Workshopped<\/p>\n
That said, I\u2019ll still take \u201cLet\u2019s Go\u201d every day over something like \u201cFearless Champions,\u201d which sounded like a motivational poster hastily slapped onto a 1990s No Fear windshield sticker. Tough-sounding words don\u2019t automatically translate into identity. Those things take repetition, authenticity, and time.<\/p>\n