This week, an athletic rivalry shakes our nation to its very core. Civility grounds to a halt as family and friends are torn apart by their team allegiances. Strangers pass on the street, adorned in the colors of the opposing teams, and promptly beat the ass out of each other. What's worse, these two strangers are two 90 year old women, both of whom love that Andy Griffith and would find the other a real asset in their knitting circle. Not this week, though. This is a week for taunts, insults, and thinly veiled threats. A week for high fiving and gasped obscenity. A week where two halves of the world play their conflict out through their teams. Soon enough, it'll all be over and we can go back to being friends. Not for now, though; this week, we are rivals.
And apparently at the same time this magnificent contest is going on, there's some sort of baseball game going on in New York. What's all the clamor about there? Boston and New York play each other 30 times a year; Trinity and Centre only play once. I'm no professional sportsologist, but it seems like the stakes would be a teensy bit higher there in the football. Not to mention the fact that the only thing that these two gay liberal arts schools take more seriously than post-modernism is the delicate ballet of the gridiron! Offer me a choice between attending game 7 of the Yankees/Red Sox series in New York or attending the football game out in Danville, KY, and like most of God-fearing America, I'll don my Trinity U dashiki and then ask for some mace to keep the hillbillies away.
Since my declaration last night that this would be Rivalry Week, owing to the football contest between Trinity and Centre on Saturday, Internet dilettante Brendan Adkins has had absolutely nothing to say about the subject. What's the matter, Brendan? Let me guess: Centre gave up on school spirit entirely when the administration realized the students cared much more about chasing their cousins around while enthusiastically strumming the banjo. Perhaps I should've relayed my response solely through stick figures and farting noises, the official means of communication for the Kentucky educational system. It's just like a Centre man to give up entirely when he encounters the slightest bit of character.
Sadly, Division III lacks the pagaentry of big school football, with its Rose Bowls and fancy trophies and whatnot. So, I hereby propose to Mr. Adkins (and the Mr. part is in quotes after some of the erotic poetry he's sent me) that we raise the ante here. Let's institute the Trinity/Centre Pudding Bowl. Immediately after the game on Saturday, the loser must send to the winner one bowl of pudding. The only thing more delicious than the complete and total victory is the celebration of complete and total victory with a bowl of nanner puddin. What do you say? Put your pudding where your mouth is, if you dare!
And no, Brendan, you can't fool anyone by pooping in the bowl.Posted by Cody at October 20, 2004 6:27 PM