Bowties or Overalls?

Let me preface this post with a bit of background. My loving wife graduated from the University of North Carolina. I graduated from NC State University. The two schools are rivals separated by 26 miles of Interstate 40, and under most circumstances the two don’t mix. Every once in a while I forget why, but today, I remembered.

Our friends the Huxtables (not their real names, but their characters of tv) invited us to the UVA / UNC game in Chapel Hill. We got there a little early, and somehow our group decided it would be fun to sit in the student section. Thus begins the hell that was the game.

Apparently we were not sitting in just any student section; this was the Greek Court of Kenan Stadium, where the guys wear dress shirts and bow ties to the game, and the girls are apparently more interested in showing off their shortest skirts and spreading the latest gossip instead of actually watching football.

The group surrounding us played cat and mouse with the security personnel as they defiantly stood on the bleachers amidst threats of police escort unless they stopped. Stand on the bleachers... security tells you to step down... you step down... security walks away... you stand back on the bleachers. Wash and repeat. You’d think people getting a high-quality education would find enjoyment in more enlightening activities. But no, not this crowd... not until one girl lifted her sun dress to show a half dozen or more airplane bottles taped to her inner thigh. Then their attention turned elsewhere, at least for a while.

When they weren’t toying with stadium law enforcement or partaking in liquid contraband, our stadium-mates were hugging one another, text messaging boyfriends, and doing pretty much anything other than watching the game. As someone actually interested in the entertainment on the field, this made my viewing experience less than pleasurable.

Fish out of water doesn’t even begin to describe it. It was more like I was an undercover reporter who had been thrust in the midst of a foreign-speaking crime ring. I didn’t understand half of what they said, and I didn’t participate in their crimes... but every time a police officer or security guard walked by I just tried to shut up and blend in. I haven’t been a student in years, and I thought maybe during their shenanigans I would have been exposed and earned my own police escort out of the venue. And maybe I should have been... how dare I go wanting to actually watch the game!

It wasn’t like this at State. Overalls jokes aside, the vast majority of our students actually went to watch games. Yes, they could be rowdy... and they too liked to antagonize security personnel by any means possible... but all of that was second to the game on the field. Or maybe I’m just getting too old and forgetting what it was really like. As the gray hair takes over and 28 gets closer to thirty, for the first time I am happy that I soon won’t be able to blend in.

I remember arguing with my dad about the music I listened to growing up... as he undoubtedly did with his. Clichés often come true, and this afternoon I lived one full force.

I attended a rival's football game. I sat in their student section and tried to blend in. I returned older, grumpier, and questioning the quality and future of our youth. (Youth... people I am only 6 or so years removed from, and today for the first time I call them youth?)

I suppose this is what I deserve. I went to the game of my most hated rival as a favor to my wife. For my lack of allegiance I paid a price. Maybe school comes before marriage? Or does age conquer all? I don’t know, but next time I’m sticking with the overalls crowd... and I’ll leave the student section to those that actually are.