Once upon a time in 2011, I scribbled in the Dallas Observer that Texas A&M would have its shaved head handed to it if it left the Big 12 for the SEC.

I accessorized the column with various funny-but-admittedly-unfair Aggie jokes, such as …

A Texas A&M Aggie, Texas Longhorn and TCU Horned Frog are handed blindfolds and cigarettes. Asked for their last words, the Longhorn attempts to distract the firing squad by screaming “Earthquake!” The Frog yells “Tornado!” Shrieks the Aggie, “Fire!”

Why did the Aggie lose his job at the M&M factory?

Kept throwing away all the W’s.

Didja hear about the Aggie who broke his leg while raking leaves?

Fell right out of the tree.

Then came 2012, Johnny Football and my time in the barrel.

Aggies’ fans researched, remembered and sought revenge. Because Manziel won the Heisman Trophy and led A&M to an upset win at Alabama, an 11-2 record, a victory in the Cotton Bowl and a No. 5 final ranking, I was fit for the spit and some uncomfortable time roasting over the ol’ College Station bonfire.

The “Media Crow Eating Tour 2012,” it was so eloquently called. Along with writers from ESPN, the New York Times and USA Today – who also predicted abject failure for A&M in the SEC – I was targeted, harassed and humbled on social media. The rabid fans demanded a public apology, because turned out I was wron …

In the immortal words of Samuel L. Jackson’s “Jules Winnfield” just before he comprehensively won an argument via hand-cannon in Pulp Fiction … “Well, allow me to retort.”

What did Texas A&M do to fill its lingering void of football success? Grossly overpaid a declining head coach and presented him with a faux championship trophy adorned by a blank date.

Actually, that’s not a joke. It’s the sad, sorry truth. Much like the fact that – despite Manziel’s momentary magic – I was correct in 2011, just as I am in 2019: Texas A&M to the SEC was a mistake that has demonstrably diluted the Aggies from Lone Star pride to Southern-fried fodder.

In seven seasons in the SEC, the Aggies are – yawn – 30-26.

They have produced only two winning seasons in conference play, one of which came in 2018 thanks to a controversial, seven-overtime home win over LSU.

They haven’t sniffed a West division championship, much less played in or won a conference title.

Their recent bowl appearances: Belk, Chick-fil-A and Gator.

Since Manziel left, they are 24-24 in the conference and have finished no higher than 16th in a season-ending poll.

The Texas A&M Afterthoughts. Congratulations.

The SEC is the toughest conference in college football; SEC West the gnarliest division. That’s not an excuse because, alas, they were warned. By dorky sportswriters. And by Arkansas, which bolted the Southwest Conference in 1992 and is still – 27 years later and counting – awaiting its first SEC championship.

But, as jealous as it was impotent to the bitter end, A&M just had to leave the Big 12. Why? Because it saw the University of Texas as the bully on its block, and itself as a battered wife seeking the protection of a new, adopted family.

Though they no longer spice up our Thanksgiving weekends with what once was one of the best rivalries in college football – Texas still has Oklahoma; A&M has … LSU? – the Aggies and Longhorns remain inexorably connected.

Each was recently named among Sports Illustrated’s Top 10 college football towns (College Station No. 9; Austin No. 3). In 2018, Forbes ranked A&M as America’s most valuable program, with Texas No. 2. The magazine credited A&M’s surge past perennial leader Texas on contributions from alumni for the $485 million reconstruction of Kyle Field. If you can’t be better, simply build bigger.

The Aggies were once a storied franchise led by John David Crow, Von Miller, R.C. Slocum and the Wrecking Crew defense. But this greener-pastures relocation has played out exactly as we predicted: A&M needed the Big 12 more than the Big 12 needed A&M.

As a graduate of a school without a football program since 1986 (UT-Arlington), I don’t have a dog in this hunt. But it’s still maddening that an A&M that prides itself on honor, tradition and loyalty saw no more rational solution than to up and leave the neighborhood. The 12th Man. Reveille. The bonfire. Only seniors wearing boots. The band’s precision. Hullabaloo, Caneck, Caneck. Whoop!

Sorry, but the Aggies sold their soul to the SEC devil, and now they’re about as charming as a steaming pile of Bevo’s bullshit.

But this year will be different, right?

The Aggies are 12th in the initial AP poll. They return an experienced team that almost beat eventual champion Clemson last year. Justin Madubuike is an elite defensive lineman. Quarterback Kellen Mond showed flashes with his feet and his arm and …

Same as it ever was, they’ll lose four games. At least.

Sure, they’ll rout Texas State in Thursday’s opener. But they play the top three teams in the Top 25 and four of the top six, three of them on the road. A&M could be better than last year and still lose to Clemson, Alabama, Georgia and LSU. Top tailback Trayveon Williams is gone. Same for leading tight end Jace Sternberger. And Mond? He plays in the same conference as Alabama’s Tua Tagovailoa and Georgia’s Jake Fromm, better known as preseason Heisman Trophy hopefuls.

In the SEC, the Aggies are nothing if not consistently irrelevant.

Truth is, A&M left Texas because the Longhorn Network kicked sand in its face to the tune of $300 million in revenue. End result is a hollow version of “success” that (still) includes the Aggies’ irrational claim to have been the nation’s best team in 2012, boasting about desolate head coach Jimbo Fisher, and constantly serenading a once-proud program that suddenly hasn’t won a conference title since 1998 and a national championship since 1939.

So disillusioned is A&M that chancellor John Sharp gave Fisher the fake trophy inscribed with a blank date of “20–.” Good news: 81 years to get it right. Bad news: Students now clamoring to “graduate” with undated diplomas.

To the chagrin of those Aggies that coveted my scalp in 2011, I’ll say it again:

A&M to the SEC-ede? Every ass-kickin’ you’re administered is as predictable as it is enjoyable.

The joke’s on you.