Clear blue heavens cover us like a welcoming blanket on an unusually warm bright fall day. A slight breeze gives a small respite to combat the rosy cheeks that seem to appear all too quickly on the face of my date as she stands next to me. Today is not just any other day. Today is Gameday. It is a day of joy and sorrow, ecstasy and pain, and most of all for the victors… pure bliss. I look around to see the colorful pageantry of the moment. My facepaint cracks to the beat of tubas and trombones only a couple of rows to my side. Thousands have gathered dressed for war. Giant colored advertisement boards scream for attention above the navy blue sea of the faithful.
Meanwhile, the ball is kicked high into the air, leaving one to question where it will land, and more importantly - what will happen when the inflated cow-hide does. This uncertainty prompts me to ask myself why I make the effort to come here on Saturdays? I do not hold any loyalties of blood or friendship to the men on the field. Indeed, I’ve only ever met two of them. One from my high school, the other I home-taught freshman year. I rarely even talk to them now. My reasons are deeper than shallow acquaintances. All eleven men in blue on the field carry a matching blue oval with a little ‘Y’ inside of it. The symbol represents my university. It represents the place my parents met so many years ago in a dance class. It represents my decision to come here instead of other schools with more attractive offers. When I think of exactly why I cheer, it comes to validation. Validation of my life, my choices, and my beliefs. I know it sounds silly, but when the football team succeeds, my school succeeds. As a student, this success is ultimately my success because I am a part of the greater whole. I may not be on the field right now (No matter how many times I dreamed of it in my backyard), but that is me on the field. That is me proving that a little school from Utah can compete with the big boys from Los Angeles. It’s me… until we start losing….
The gold and white helmets rush towards each other. The golds prepare to defend while the whites zig and zag as they scramble to flatten that poor soul that seeks to face them. Men and plastic collide and create a mountain of pads and manhood. It reminds me of watching a 7-year old’s soccer game, everybody ends up where the ball is. Where’s the ball? I yell, as I desperately search. My eyes strain as I squint into the sun from my Portal KK seats. A BYU player suddenly jumps to his feet with his arm outstretched toward our endzone. IT’S A FUMBLE! WE GOT IT! WE GOT IT! Riot ensues as the masses cry for more. More effort, more pain, more blood, more sweat, more tears. Bones break, muscles groan, and tendons stretch taught. Bodies are not the only things breaking today, but hearts, dreams, and pride... at least if you’re from UCLA.
The shouts of the masses subside long enough for the trickles of barbecued smoke to seduce my nostrils like the siren’s song. It beckons me closer and my stomach growls in encouragement. My wallet however, responds with a resounding NO! ROAR! What’s that? I turn my head. Touchdown! Touchdown! Touchdown! The navy sea jumps… and enters heaven for a split second… only to have to return to the mortal realm as the battle continues. Nevertheless, thoughts wander freely. Gone are the apprehension and anxiety that gripped our hearts only hours before. The doubt of the unknown now gone, smiles spread easily on chapped sun-burnt lips as I revel in our success. Today is going to be a great day. Today is Gameday.
6 comments:
Dear Travis,
This is great. This is exactly what Sister Hallen asked us to do. I can feel the intensity of the game, but you failed to mention that the white helmeted knight completely crushed and mangled the gold helmeted knight. Very good imagery and sensory details. I would like to hear a bit more about your rosy-cheeked date though...
Colin
I like that you tied in the greater vision of the game with some physical elements describing your own experience. Like your face paint and sun burned lips and whatnot. I would have liked also to hear you take individual plays and transform them into elements in your piece. That would been sweet.
Your portrait captures the camaraderie of this sporting event. I like the specific details, like the sun-chapped lips, because such fun in the sun does have its costs after four hours, even if you win. Besides capturing a happy day, what is the significance of this piece? Why does the game day matter to you? Why should it matter to your readers? Some of the hyperbolic imagery you use seems predictable. Try to replace them with more specific observations and similes.
I am not a big sports fan, but I felt the enthusiasm here and I enjoyed it. I liked your unique imager and comparisons. Good perspective.
Full credit earned for revised version.
I rrrreally like your revision. You made a football game much bigger than a simple football game. You made me laugh and you made me feel guilty for not going to the games. Good job.
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