Our wait is finally over. Nearly eight months in purgatory has given way to the unabashed joy and celebration that is the college football season. There are few things better in this world I contend than spending the day tailgating with your closest friends, drinking beer, talking football, walking into the stadium, hearing the roar of the crowd, listening the band, feeling that electricity run through your body, watching the teams line up for the opening kickoff and spending the next 3-4 hours in heaven.
It’s a giant excuse to be closer to your friends, maybe even family. I can still vividly remember the first college football game I went to: USC v. Stanford, Homecoming 1991. USC lost that day 24-21 but I was hooked. The band, the stadium, the crowd, the colors … it was all bigger than me. This was a collective of people all cheering for the same thing and being together while they did it. My dad took us basically because I had gotten a ucla sweatshirt from Ralph’s sometime during the week and worn it around the house. Most of my friends were bRuin fans and well, I guess that made me one too. At that sight my dad realized that he had waited too long to show me real college football and got tickets for that Saturday’s game. He opened my eyes to a whole new world (dramatic, aren’t I?) and I was never the same.
Though I have an incredible time going to games with all my friends and look forward to them all off-season, I still love going to games with my dad. I’m also incredibly happy that two of my three fondest memories and happiest games I shared sitting next to my dad in the stands – 1996 v. Notre Dame to end the streak, where I leaped into my dad’s arms (I’m not a small guy, even at 17) and screamed “Its over!!” about 1700 times; and the 2004 Rose Bowl v. Michigan where USC captured its first National Title since 1978 and I hugged my dad for about 10 minutes after the final gun. I’ll admit it got a little dusty after each game and I’m not ashamed to admit it. Thanks dad … more than you could know.
There is a great line from the otherwise terrible movie Fever Pitch (and the original book about Arsenal is an all-time favorite) where Drew Barrymore’s character says its “romantic to give yourself over to something bigger than you, something you have no control over.” Or something like that – I didn’t look it up on imdb. She’s right. I like to think of myself as that kind of romantic. And I like to think of my friends like that too. Its more than just a game between kids. Its about cheering together. Arguing together. Sharing that passion together. Together.
But enough of this reflection … its gameday!!!
FIGHT ON!!! BEAT THE VANDALS!!!
GO BEARS!!! BEAT THE VOLS!!!
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3 comments:
I am with you man!
I can't remember my first college game (I was still a baby), but my fondest memories growing up were walking around this big campus with my dad with all of these people cheering for the same school. He would take me to where the band would walk and put me on his shoulders as the marched by. I can still feel my little heart thumping as the drummers marched past us. I was hooked from that point on with SC.
Fight On!
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The only college games I went to with my dad were USC v Notre Dame games. Unfortunately, it was during the streak. I'm pretty sure I never saw USC win a game until my senior year in high school, at the game when the streak ended. How crazy is that?
am i jerk for liking "Fever Pitch" the movie? perhaps i should read the book.
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