I watched the Super Bowl for Lady Gaga. There, I said it.
You still there?
Look, I'm sorry. I'm not a sports aficionado. At least, not the kind that are regularly televised. I mean, I'll watch the hell out of figure skating. During the Winter Olympics my TV is booked for at least a solid week. If you ever want to kill 37 minutes, ask me about Ashley Wagner from 2014. I'm still salty about that.
But the Sunflower Showdown is an entirely different animal. I shed my sports apathy and turn into someone who actually gives a shit. I live for it. I'm actually more excited for the trek to Bramlage tonight than for three months later when I graduate. You just know that the Coliseum will be way less full of dread, despair, and debt tonight than it will be come May 13th.
If you're like me, welcome! This is a safe space for those of us who will never understand the finer points of Weber's strategy but will still lose their goddam minds over a sick 3-point shot.
I'm really just hoping I'm less of an idiot this year. Last year I got a wicked migraine about halfway through. I'm pretty sure at one point I prayed for death, or for someone to lob a ball straight at the backseat bleachers and send me into deep, unconscious bliss. Instead, I chugged a soda from the food court and rode the Diet Coke wave until the end.
So, uh, if you do get a migraine at the game... go home. This has been a PSA.
A few other tidbits that I picked up from my four years as a Wildcat are listed below. You may disagree because you legitimately understand the game. That's cool. Tell me all about it once I've taken my Excedrin.
So there you have it. I know we get a lot of flack for being enthusiastic assholes, and admittedly, some of it's deserved. But, win or lose, we love our team. Seriously. It could be the worst season ever and we'd still strut in like we're hot stuff. Which, given the windchill, is maybe not a bad idea.
about the author
Great hair, average personality.