I'm sure that none of you have forgotten, but out of editorial integrity, I feel it is my duty to remind everyone of Cal Athletics' well-executed plan for Saturday's game of the California Golden Bears against Washington State Cougars—our Homecoming game—to be a Pink Out for breast cancer awareness.
Now, I can almost guarantee that the stands of California Memorial Stadium are going to basically look like they were adorned with Lisa Frank stickers thanks to our unofficial poll confirming that up to 16% of over 200 respondents saying that they would at least consider wearing pink on Homecoming. Wow. That language and those numbers are so powerful that I think they could stiff arm the crap out of an Oregon Duck. But, why stop there? Instead of just having pink surround Kabam Field, why not get some pink on the field? Let's take a look at what it would look like if our beloved Golden Bears take the field decked out in blue and gold and pink.
Now, this is our conservative look. Just a dash of pink here for emphasis, like Sam Fielder's beloved style of wearing colorful socks as a statement. And what's that statement? "Cancer—we say thee nay." And how is it possible to have a problem with that statement? And yet, it exists. There's just an eensy bit of opposition to this plan and we're here to tell you sillies to stop being all silly.
First things first, let's correct you on the underlying purpose behind this cause—breast cancer awareness. Arguably the biggest name in associating pink and breast cancer is the non-profit organization Komen for the Cure. Right in their name tells you how serious they are about curing cancer. So serious that they'll sue other companies for using any phrase similar to "for the cure" in their name. Because no one—and I mean no one—takes cures as seriously as the Komen organization. And how dare those imposters try to claim the same level of commitment? And let's ignore concerns about how much of their donations and revenue towards actual research. Having more people aware that breast cancer is a thing might be just the very cure we need. Imagine the work that could be done with more and more aware people. What can't be accomplished with a large mob of people—aware people? Maybe we can scare cancer away by knowing that it exists. Like Mario and a Boo. It's hard to say because we don't have enough aware people. And when's the last time you've seen a store that sells pitchforks for us to mobilize?
Now that I've got some more people on my side—on the side of logic and truth—thanks to my persuasive eloquence, let's try to pink it up just a little bit more. Get ready for your socks to get knocked off and then replaced with cancer-curing pink socks.
Wow. Beauty, thy name is pink Cal. Is there a lost and found around here? I must have lost my breath because I am just breathless.
Now, for you cancer-loving detractors who insist that Cal should only wear our school colors—blue and gold—let's take a quick stroll down Facts Lane and remember that there is a beautiful pinkish hue that is officially listed as a proud member of our secondary palette. Hello, Rose Garden! So, if you hate pink uniforms because they aren't "Cal", then I have a few questions for you.
Why do you hate the Berkeley Rose Garden? Do you not want our city to have any landmarks besides that place where perfectly reasonable and non-stinky people used to live in trees to protest football stadiums and the promise of planting more trees?
Why do you hate roses, love, and Valentine's Day? Only I'm allowed to hate such things because I'm too ugly for love.
Why do you hate gardens? Do you not want people to have access to vegetables? I think it's safe to assume that we can blame you for giving cancer and heart disease to the world.
Plus, your hate for roses is probably why Cal can't make it to the Rose Bowl. So, thank you for that.