Jesus, I love Saturdays

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Jesus, I love Saturdays

Today begins the kickoff of college football season.

For me and the millions of college football fans across the country, this is our time.

We will wake up on game day, either really early to make it to the tailgate outside the stadium; or right before ESPN College Gameday comes on to see if Lee, Kirk, and Chris pick our team on Saturday.

We will put on our freshly purchased jersey, hat, or t-shirt; letting each of these new items in our game day attire wash away the pain of a losing season, a bowl game loss, or favorite departed player.

We will make sure that either the fridge or our coolers are stocked well in advance. Not one of us likes to go hungry or thirsty before, during, and after the game.

We will welcome back alumni to campus and introduce new co-eds to places like Toomer's Corner, The Grove, and The 12th Man.

We will watch the parade of sorority sisters and cadets march to their own respective cadence, one group carrying Coach purses and the other carrying a rifle 

We will watch as little boys toss around the football with their father's, little girls dressed like cheerleaders, and the proud parents that look at them as the next generation of Trojans, Wolverines, Bulldogs and Fighting Irish.

We will talk about the new coach, the new freshman QB, the returning seniors, and what shenanigans our rival has been up to; all in hopes that this is our year. Nothing will stand in our way.

We will either be cordial or hostile to visiting fans, depending on their choice of team.

We will also be cordial or hostile to the hosting fans, depending on if they offer you food and drink. 

We will watch Tiger Walk, Gator Walk, and Vol Walk. We will listen to The Band of the Hour, The Million Dollar Band, and the Marching Chiefs as we walk with them to the stadium.

We will watch in anticipation as Lee Corso puts on a Brutus Buckeye head, carry a Trojan Sword, and do the Gator Chomp.

We will watch our team run through either white smoke, red smoke, and purple smoke.

We will watch our team touch Howard's Rock, the Go Blue banner, and a wide collection of bronzed animals.

We will watch as our team invades hostile territory or plays in the friendly confines of home.

We will do the Hokie Bounce, The Wave, Salute to the Chinese Bandits, The Tomahawk Chop, The Gator Chomp, The Penn State Bounce, and we will most certainly Jump Around at Camp Randall.

We will scream our heads off, either to drown out opposing fans or to carve out our own place among 90,000 people rooting against you. 

We will saw the Longhorns off, sing our alma mater, and do the Haka dance.

We will walk out of the stadium either with our heads held high, basking in the glow of a win; or we will saunter out, head hung low, cursing the coach and blaming the refs.

We will pack up the RV, the suburban, and head home. Some of us will walk back to the dorms or to on-campus bars, and some of us will shut the TV off.

We will suffer through the next six days of the week, because after all is said and done:

We do it again next Saturday.

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