Super Bowl Sunday. In the eyes of some men, the single best day of the year. In the eyes of a student taking a 19 hour semester, the perfect excuse for a study break. Dragging ourselves away from the library, about six of us showed up at the Sigma Chi house at about 5:35 for the watch party, only five minutes late which must have been a personal record. In the back of my mind, I thought for sure we’d be one of the first few people there, that most probably wouldn’t show up until halftime… My judgment was more than a little off.
For the first time walking into the house, there was no one waiting at the door with a welcoming smile on their face, no one in the foyer, not even a sole in the kitchen. The entry way to the living room was blocked so we went around the side hallway. On the far side of the living room was a screen the size of the whole wall, projecting the game in high definition. Over a hundred chairs of every sort were jammed together to get a good view. Collapsible chairs, desk chairs, rolling chairs, kitchen benches, oversized armchairs, everything sturdy enough to support a college kid was drafted for the cause. Sofas were stacked on tables to create a second level. It would take the house collapsing to pry a single pair of eyes from the screen.
I couldn’t help but laugh (and get shh-ed by devoted fans in the process) at the sight. My family, while huge college football fans, had never made a big event out of the Superbowl, usually just turning it on to make up for the lack of college football following the end of the season. This was something else entirely. Kelsey and I took a seat on the pool table at the edge of the room. A dozen boxes of pizzas were being passed around the room and it was the first time I had ever seen so many college boys not even blink at the sight of food (or girls for that matter).
Every time someone scored (or passed or ran or fumbled or even looked at the camera) a strange mix of groans and cheers rose up from the room. No one breathed until halftime, upon which half the room ran to be first in line for the bathroom and the other half searched for more pizza. This was the only time un-football related talk was acceptable, though I still got my fair share of “Who are you for?” questions thrown my way. Once the game continued all small talk ceased and the unrelenting focus resumed.
In a couple of months I know I won’t remember who played (Denver and Seattle), who won (Seattle), or by how much (43-8), but never again will I ever underestimate the combination of college and football.
ZLAM <3
Lauren Woolfolk
PC'13
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