You know, I didn’t grow up a Cal fan. My dad was a Wisconsin Badger—and he made sure my blood ran red and white.
Yet, there I was last Sunday morning, unable to control my shaking leg, pounding the desk in my Unit 2 room, begging the football gods for their favor.
And it happened. Cal won.
Every Cal fan has a story. It’s the type of story an old, weathered sailor spins on a rainy night—a tragedy that would make Aeschylus weep. It’s the story of the first time Cal football broke your heart.
But, as the game wore on, our Bears made plays after plays after plays. The only hearts broken that morning were purple.
This team, man. This team. The universe has been around for billions of years and will probably continue for trillions. We don’t decide when we’re born, yet we are so blessed to live at the same time as the #TAKERS. So let’s make this happy hype, alright? There are other groups at Cal besides me, though none are a vocal master as I.
Like, the Cal Band set up and played in the concourse for the delay!
Or Rally Comm, who willingly locked themselves inside Haas Pavilion and sang every song like a home game. Look at them cheering The Only Chris Brown over the line! (You can’t tell me that wasn’t a touchdown)
We really are part of the greatest university in the world. This Saturday, at Memorial Stadium, I can’t wait for our Bears’ return.
Oh, right, we have to play another game against another team. The Mean Green? Meh, we have enough experience with colors already (though maybe not in victory over colors). Anyway, I hear they have a good QB, possibly even great.
But that’s their only weapon? Bears by 50.