Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Hook 'Em, Bevo

If you're going to break the law, break it with enough conviction to end up in jail.

If you're going to get disowned for moving to Texas and abandoning the Big Ten, attend a Longhorns football game and wear school colors.

I pulled on my only burnt orange piece of clothing and prepared to meet Bevo Nation.  They did not disappoint.

We walked to the game from a friend's place to avoid the utter traffic nightmare, and the campus I see every day on the way to and from masters swimming was virtually unrecognizable.  I grab breakfast tacos here after practice in a pinch:

This is the view of the stadium I get every time I swim on campus.  People, move, you are ruining my shot!

The stadium is quite nice, accommodating 100+k without creating traffic jams.  This food court holds the most people I think I ever saw at a Harvard football when we weren't playing Yale.

The view from our nose-bleed seats, which I actually preferred.  We got to see the skyline and the sun, and everybody else got to see just a sea of burnt orange.

And quite a sea it was.

Less than one third of the stadium

It was the Veteran's Game so Airborne Rangers parachuted into the stadium and received a huge cheer when they hit the Longhorn emblem mid-field.  On game day, Bevo the mascot resides in that burnt orange bunker in the top right corner of the photo, just at the bottom of the bleachers.  Let me assure you, the rest of his life is just as posh. 

The UT marching band is HUGE.  They do really complicated figures because I think there would be no other way to incorporate the entire brass section.

It says "UT" - with people left over

What state is this again?  As if the number of unique or custom-made cowboy boots didn't give it away.

I have been following (and watching on TV when possible) the Longhorns the entire season, but I was reminded just how much being a fan of a team is only cemented by attending games.  I didn't know the fight songs, the dances, the cheers, the call-and-responses, the band's ditties, and the tradition of firing a cannon at nearly every single applicable opportunity.  I didn't even know what a Bevo was before entering the stadium.  The Big 12 might not be as keen to have me as the Big Ten was sad to lose me.

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