Criminally underchinned. Gifted writing. I was hooked three words in, making me think, "Isn't the game here? Let me read on."Where my dawgs at?!?!
I left Seattle at 2 a.m. because, as every Husky fan knows, real loyalty means sacrificing sleep, dignity and your checking account. Packed the essentials:
Flight? Red-eye from Seatown. Middle seat. Between a guy in a WSU hoodie who kept burping “Cougs house!” and a woman who asked if UW was “that school in Wisconsin.”
Landed in Chicago, rented a car. They gave me a Chevy Spark. A SPARK. I’m a Husky, not a hamster. Hit I-74, passed 400 miles of corn, and started questioning if Illinois even has humans or if it’s just a simulation run by John Deere.
Finally, I roll into Memorial Stadium at 7:30 a.m., ready to tailgate like Don James himself is watching. I fire up the Coleman road-tripper, crack a dusty, and blast the fight song loud enough to scare prairie dogs. I’m feeling elite. I’m feeling smug. I’m feeling… alone.
Because here’s the thing: THERE’S NOBODY HERE. No orange. No blue. No bratwurst smoke. Just me, my grill, and a stadium that looks like it’s hosting a library convention. Did Illinois cancel football? El-Oh-El
At this point, I’m wandering the parking lot like a lost Patagonia model, muttering about Marques Tuiasosopo being better than anyone Illinois ever recruited. Red Grange? Cute. Dick Butkus? Adorable. But could they handle the Pac-12 grind? Please.
So yeah, if anyone knows why Champaign looks like the set of The Walking Dead instead of a Big Ten showdown, hit me up. Until then, I’ll be here explaining to the squirrels why Reggie Williams > Brandon Lloyd and sipping my Spacey like the pretentious West Coast elitist I am.
Go Dawgs. Beat Illinois. (If they actually show up, har har.)
The Gayme is actually in Michigan!Where my dawgs at?!?!
I left Seattle at 2 a.m. because, as every Husky fan knows, real loyalty means sacrificing sleep, dignity and your checking account. Packed the essentials:
Flight? Red-eye from Seatown. Middle seat. Between a guy in a WSU hoodie who kept burping “Cougs house!” and a woman who asked if UW was “that school in Wisconsin.”
Landed in Chicago, rented a car. They gave me a Chevy Spark. A SPARK. I’m a Husky, not a hamster. Hit I-74, passed 400 miles of corn, and started questioning if Illinois even has humans or if it’s just a simulation run by John Deere.
Finally, I roll into Memorial Stadium at 7:30 a.m., ready to tailgate like Don James himself is watching. I fire up the Coleman road-tripper, crack a dusty, and blast the fight song loud enough to scare prairie dogs. I’m feeling elite. I’m feeling smug. I’m feeling… alone.
Because here’s the thing: THERE’S NOBODY HERE. No orange. No blue. No bratwurst smoke. Just me, my grill, and a stadium that looks like it’s hosting a library convention. Did Illinois cancel football? El-Oh-El
At this point, I’m wandering the parking lot like a lost Patagonia model, muttering about Marques Tuiasosopo being better than anyone Illinois ever recruited. Red Grange? Cute. Dick Butkus? Adorable. But could they handle the Pac-12 grind? Please.
So yeah, if anyone knows why Champaign looks like the set of The Walking Dead instead of a Big Ten showdown, hit me up. Until then, I’ll be here explaining to the squirrels why Reggie Williams > Brandon Lloyd and sipping my Spacey like the pretentious West Coast elitist I am.
Go Dawgs. Beat Illinois. (If they actually show up, har har.)
Ghosts of the Pac 12.. Doomedcan’t wait for the pod to hear Wooley’s thoughts on this referee resurfacing!
Florida or Bust!maybe they’ve rediscovered their “why”