Honestly, I really did not expect it to be difficult at all to get swept up in the idea of being a Longhorn. They'll never play Maryland in anything so I avoid that predicament (Terps all the way) pretty easily. But yesterday, standing in a sea of burnt orange felt very very strange. The experience, in and of itself, was amazing. As a sports fan in general, there's nothing better than college football, especially in a place like Texas, where this stuff is practically religion. Our tailgating began steps from LBJ's presidential library in the breezeway of our school building. $40 buys you a season's worth of burgers, chips, soda, beer, and a T-shirt that proclaims your membership in LBJ's Great Tailgate Society. The only difference between this tailgate and those we used to throw at Maryland was that there were babies. Cute babies in burnt orange onesies wondering what in god's name everyone was yelling about. There were drinking games and food, football and washers, and alums who graduated before LBJ was born playing Uno and smoking cigars. When gametime rolled around, we missed the dedication of Vince Young's #10, but saw Matthew McConaughey throw the horns up on the Jumbotron. About 30 rows up from the 10 yard line, we stood for a solid 3 hours while the orange jerseys ran circles around Florida Atlantic. And yes, it's nice not having to worry about your team beating their rollover opponent. But there was part of me having trouble looking around and seeing orange instead of red, my new friends rather than my die-hard Maryland crew, and white and orange "TEXAS" in the endzone rather than red and white "MARYLAND". My hands resisted the thumb over two middle fingers, index and pinky up formation and I felt a little bit like an intruder in someone else's world. So many things about Texas are familiar, which is wonderful and calming. The football fan in me is glad to have two more years of student tickets and bragging rights. The burnt orange will seep into my wardrobe little by little, and yes, I imagine I will eventually wear boots to a football game. But my roots will always be with the Terps, regardless of how many interceptions Steffy throws.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Awkward Longhorn?
Honestly, I really did not expect it to be difficult at all to get swept up in the idea of being a Longhorn. They'll never play Maryland in anything so I avoid that predicament (Terps all the way) pretty easily. But yesterday, standing in a sea of burnt orange felt very very strange. The experience, in and of itself, was amazing. As a sports fan in general, there's nothing better than college football, especially in a place like Texas, where this stuff is practically religion. Our tailgating began steps from LBJ's presidential library in the breezeway of our school building. $40 buys you a season's worth of burgers, chips, soda, beer, and a T-shirt that proclaims your membership in LBJ's Great Tailgate Society. The only difference between this tailgate and those we used to throw at Maryland was that there were babies. Cute babies in burnt orange onesies wondering what in god's name everyone was yelling about. There were drinking games and food, football and washers, and alums who graduated before LBJ was born playing Uno and smoking cigars. When gametime rolled around, we missed the dedication of Vince Young's #10, but saw Matthew McConaughey throw the horns up on the Jumbotron. About 30 rows up from the 10 yard line, we stood for a solid 3 hours while the orange jerseys ran circles around Florida Atlantic. And yes, it's nice not having to worry about your team beating their rollover opponent. But there was part of me having trouble looking around and seeing orange instead of red, my new friends rather than my die-hard Maryland crew, and white and orange "TEXAS" in the endzone rather than red and white "MARYLAND". My hands resisted the thumb over two middle fingers, index and pinky up formation and I felt a little bit like an intruder in someone else's world. So many things about Texas are familiar, which is wonderful and calming. The football fan in me is glad to have two more years of student tickets and bragging rights. The burnt orange will seep into my wardrobe little by little, and yes, I imagine I will eventually wear boots to a football game. But my roots will always be with the Terps, regardless of how many interceptions Steffy throws.
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1 comment:
yayy sass has football in tay-has.
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