Born and raised in Texas, I have a special place reserved in my heart for Texas vs. Texas A&M, a game that draws a line literally down the middle of the family – not just mine, but most of the families in Texas. Thanks, Longhorns, for pulling out the victory last night. You saved the weekend for me, and for that I’m thankful. I’d be more thankful if we can get those knucklehead athletic directors together and ensure this over 100-year old rivalry continues.
Having gone to grad school at Washington, I also have the Apple Cup, the annual show down between the Huskies and cross-state rival Washington State. If you win one game a year, you have to make sure you win this game.
But, at the corner bar, we won’t likely be watching the games of our alma maters and favorite teams, or at least not watching with undivided attention. Rather, we’ll be certain to catch not-so-furtive glances at the USC-UCLA game. Why? Well, I could type a 1000 words on why exactly, but one picture will more than suffice:
What? Are you kidding? Most definitely another couple of handfuls of things to be thankful for.
During my time in Seattle, my buddies and I had season football tickets for the Huskies. Not being big-time donors, we were in the corner of the end zone at the closed end of the stadium. Great place to watch a football game, at least in September, before the rains start in late autumn and last … forever.
But, with all those games and memories, one of the memories most etched in my mind was during my grad school time, when I sat in the student section at about the 45 yard line for the USC game. When the Trojans came to town, it was always a big game, and it was never more so than during the Huskies’ golden years of the early 90’s.
That day, the pre-game crowd was raucous, with the stadium literally shaking as the players and fans prepared for the opening kickoff. Then, to the left, we felt something, something we couldn’t put our finger on, but something palatable in the air. The presence grew stronger and broke us out of our frenzied trance. Then, we figured it out. It was silence.
Silence was overtaking the din of the crowd, and it was starting from the far left corner of the stadium, but growing and swelling – sort of like ‘the wave,” but polar opposite. The crowd was slowly being overtaken with silence, and we were growing more and more confused, until we saw why.
There, walking on the track like an opening sequence of Baywatch, making their way across the stadium to their spot in front of the visitor’s section, was the USC cheerleading squad. Thankfully, it was an abbreviated “travel squad” of cheerleaders, with only four or five girls, for I’m not certain we could have taken much more. Four or five were more than enough. All around me were guys standing silent with their mouths open. I think I actually stepped on my tongue.
It’s not like we didn’t have hot girls in Seattle. Thanks to the grunge music movement whose epicenter was just a few miles away, there were loads of girls with unwashed hair, mixed and matched thrift shop clothes, and fresh “sucked, fucked, and tattooed” tattoos on their shoulder or lower back. You couldn’t take those girls home though, for mom certainly wouldn’t approve.
These USC cheerleaders? It’s not like you could have brought them home either. Not that mom would disapprove, for I’m sure she would have been tickled pink. Rather, they couldn’t be brought home for fear that dad, brothers and every guy in the neighborhood would be over trying to steal your girl.
I don’t remember the score of the game. Don’t even remember who won. But, I won’t forget the impression made by 4 or 5 southern California. And with that, I can say “Go SC” without too much shame this weekend.
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