Only a Game
We found seats in the middle of the opposing student section, near the very top of the bleachers. My brother had secured tickets a month beforehand, and while we have been at different graduate schools (he at LSU, I in Illinois) for nearly three years now, we both will always indentify as Gators first and foremost. I introduced myself to the girl next to me, an extremely petite freshman dressed completely in purple who had only ever been to one other home game and was very, very nervous about this one, the biggest game of the year. I told her I was visiting my brother and tactfully dodged the question of whom I was cheering for. I’m just hoping for a good game, I said.
Near the end of the game, with LSU on the brink of what would eventually become the game-winning score, she asked me if this was as good a game as I had hoped. Even though I was very nervous and pessimistic about UF’s overall chances, I smiled and told her Yes, I was having a good time, that this was one of the best games I had ever attended.
“I can’t stand this!” she said, hands pressed against her cheeks. “This is killing me!”
I told her that no matter what the outcome of the game, this would be one she would remember, well beyond her college days. Years from now, this would be one of the highlights of her time at LSU and that win or lose, she got to see a great, great game.
As LSU took the lead for good, and the rest of the student section burst into ear-piercing cheers and hi-fives, I mustered a smile for her and told her, See? Wasn’t it great? You’ll never forget this game, I promise.
After it was all over, my brother and I silently walked amidst the the throng of elated, screaming LSU students and I wondered if I had somehow betrayed my alma mater by failing to live up to example set by the crass, confrontational jackasses who all too eagerly assign themselves the label ‘True Gator Fan’. Maybe I should have taunted LSU or worn a shirt with a boastful logo or celebrated wildly when the Gators scored. Maybe I had sold out my alma mater by being, well, gentlemanly.
Even though I was upset, truly upset at the outcome of the game, part of me was happy that somebody I’d just met (if ever so briefly) was happy and had their fall semester made. Maybe that’s good enough—to conduct oneself amicably in an opponent’s venue, to show respect to your neighbor and appreciate their successes even when it comes at your own loss, that also reflects well on your alma mater as much as a win or a boastful, drunken cheer-along when something good happens. In my years at UF, there were no shortage of jackass opposing-team fans who would sit in the student section and act the boor for the entirety of the game, throwing things, taunting women, saying ridiculous and offensive things in front of families and children, all the name of ‘supporting their team’. I am absolutely set on not following that example, no matter how hated the opponent. Today, even though I didn’t wear orange and blue or sing the alma mater or do the Gator chomp or any of that, I’m pretty confident that I represented the University of Florida well.