Feed 'Em to the Wolv(erine)s

When I was 17, my uncle imparted some words of wisdom to me that are finally making sense: he told me to make sure the college I picked had a football team. I didn't take his advice and picked Clark, but am now beginning to understand what he meant, living in the Midwest.

I think that it would guess that about 85% of the Chicago population did take my uncle's advice and went to a D-1 school with a football team. This weekend was the second weekend of the college football season and I am getting an idea about how exciting Saturdays can be when your alma mater has the potential to make the scrolling bottom line on ESPN. On Saturdays, the streets are filled with jersey clad alumni venturing out for a few beers and to support their teams (in the company of other festive alums). Some don't wear just jerseys: I have seen ribbons and headbands and plastic beer mugs with logos and slogans and even the occasional face paint. Yesterday, I was sitting in my living room and a car full of Michigan fans was stopped at a red light outside my apartment. Now, this could be taken as normal, but they were blasting (what I assumed was) the Michigan Fight Song and singing along.

The closest I have come to being one of these college football fans started when I was about 10 years old. I was shopping with my mother and saw a Michigan sweatshirt (among other college teams) on sale at the Sports Authority in the mall downtown. I think I was probably drawn to the article because it was blue (my favorite color) with gold embroidery. I got it for Christmas that year. Because of that sweatshirt, I have always favored Michigan and rooted for the maize and blue when someone asked me who "my team" was. And when I discovered New England's golden boy Tom Brady was once a Wolverine, I secretly congratulated myself on having good taste in college football.

I never understood the college football craze. When I worked at ESPN I got a little taste, although the majority of my co-workers celebrated the glory of the UConn Huskies. I would come across the occasional Michigan State or Illinois fan, but none as enthusiastic as the alumni I pass on the streets of this city (I have a friend here who is an Illinois grad and his house is filled with blue and orange Illini decor). I never realized that if I actually went to Michigan, I would have been part of a sports cult, a kind of brother/sisterhood of shared allegiances brought together by the sport of football. That Michigan sweatshirt is like a ticket into the coolest club in town: a college football team of which to dedicate my Saturdays.

While I am happy with my academic choices because of the education I received and the opportunities I have encountered since graduation, I do feel a little envious of those who have plans every Saturday come fall; it kind of makes me feel a little left out because I went to a D-III school with NO football team... basketball was the closest to cool we got. I didn't even learn my lesson when it came to grad school... I picked DePaul, home of the Blue Demons. While the school is D-1, it is sans a football team and the basketball team is a regular bottom feeder in the Big East conference. At least I will have a team to root for come basketball season and March Madness (only if I'm REALLY lucky!!).

This Saturday, Michigan upset mighty Notre Dame in a thrilling afternoon game. I was excited, but couldn't really celebrate; I felt like a fake because I didn't really go to the school. However, I do have a sweatshirt! Mom, can you please ship that to me? If it still fits, I will fit in a little better in this college football crazy town.