We love our school. -we love our football team more.
Have you every heard 2001 under the lights of a night game? -I cry every single time.
Remember when you got that Christmas present you campaigned for all year long? -that's how loud we cheer when Cocky is revealed during the crescendo of 2001, just before the players run onto the field.
We appreciate that we went 0-21 once. -humility is a good thing.
We were crying like babies when we won that first game. -we stole the goal posts and bushes because we didn’t want the moment to end. (then we stole them a few more times)
We know Holtz changed it all for us- Spurrier made better. -and Beamer made us believe.
Fuck Muschamp. We genuinely HATE Muschamp. -don’t even mention that guy to a Gamecock.
We beat Ohio State. Twice. -they were National Champions the following year.
The HIT. -no other explanation necessary, other than OSU fans and players alike didn't give a fuck about those consecutive Outback Bowls when this occurred.
We are hopeless romantics. -how can we not be?
We are passionate and confidant. -some might say we are cocky.
Our passion annoys 99% of the people who don’t get it - we do not care.
We are grateful for every moment. - and understand more than anyone why George Rogers carries his Heisman around with him, every day.
We hate the color orange. -we really hate the color orange.
We don’t give an actual fuck how many “Nattys” Clemson has won. -we smile knowing Dabo fell for “may I take my pic of you,” and it was usually the little kid in the picture who held up 5 fingers.
We hate Georgia just as much as Clemson. -and never in my life have I heard a Williams-Brice Stadium ‘boo’ the opposing coaches, until Muschamp ran out on the field with them.
Cam Newton Broke every single one of our hearts in 2010. -we all know he played as one, while we played as a team.
We develop the kind of people you are proud to be around. "Second quarter, with about five minutes left, fate got me. It was dreadful. A lot of anger. A lot of disappointment. Lot of pain all wrapped into one. I was shouting in the x-ray room. I tore all four ligaments in my knee — ACL, LCL, PCL and MCL — my calf muscle and hamstring and my femoral artery had been hit, which is why I couldn't feel anything. … I was never mad at [Eric Gordon]. At the end of the day, it was a good play. It was a legal tackle." - Marcus Lattimore. -Lattimore was my favorite player to watch on the Gamecocks football team. He was so fucking good. And pure of heart. I will always respect that man.
Quick side note due to my obvious ADHD: Despite his abbreviated career, Lattimore ranks No. 6 on South Carolina's all-time rushing list with 2,677 yards and owns the school record for rushing touchdowns (38) and overall touchdowns (41). His best season came as a freshman in 2010 when he rushed for 1,197 yards on 249 carries. He earned SEC Freshman of the Year and unanimous Freshman All-America honors.
The NFL loves the players we give to them. -yet they treat us like a moped; it's okay to ride around the neighborhood, but you don’t want anyone to see you on it.
Dan Reeves, Bobby Bryant, George Rogers, Harold Green, Sterling Sharpe, Robert Brooks, Duce Staley, Sheldon Brown, John Abraham, Jonathan Joseph, Richard Seymour, Sidney Rice, Ryan Succop, D.J. Swearinger, Alshon Jeffery, CLOWNY, Melvin Ingram, LATTIMORE, Mike Davis, Stephon Gilmore, Damiere Byrd, Connor Shaw, DEEBO, Hayden Hurst, Javon Kinlaw, Nick Muse, and Xavier Legette. Phil Petty, Jonathan Martin, Ryan Brewer, Jason Corse, Trey Pennington, Travis Whitfield, Andrew Pinnock, Courtney Leavitt, Vic Penn, Anthony Wright, Jermale Kelly, Scott Browne, Rod Trafford, Reed Morton, Corey Jenkins, Eric Kimrey, Derek Watson, Steve Florio, Tyeler Dean, Cleveland Pinckney, and Corey Bridges. -each name on this list is a Gamecock. Sure, not all of these men made it to the NFL, but each name means something to us.
We truly believe that when we are yelling at the television during a game the team can hear our obvious expertise. -and truly believe the refs are perpetually against us.
We know that every season we could (and probably will) beat the best team in the USC. -and then lose to the worst.
We have one logo for the entire university- aside from the baseball team. -they get their own, and no one really knows why.
We show up. We have no issue learning 100 different chants- depending on the direction of The Might Sound of the Southeast. We understand that we could be up 1million points going into the 4th quarter- and lose. We understand that we could be down 1million points going into the 4th quarter- and win. We are fiercely loyal. We do not give up. We see the potential. We get frustrated. We fight.
We are the mighty Gamecocks and the REAL CAROLINA. We are the mighty Gamecocks and the REAL USC.
This might be a long one, but if you are a 30-something woman reading this, bear with me because you just might relate.
Through the years, I have always tried to stay fit, but occasionally, I will spice up my routine with a new fitness craze. I’m not trying to channel Patrick Bateman or anything, I just get bored with my usual running/bike/elliptical routine. I’ve tried barre, spin, step, Tae Bo, plyometrics, YouTube videos for problem areas, weights, zumba, and yoga.
Well, today I tried something new: bikram yoga.
i mist say i was a little surprised with Patrick’s choice of the tighty-whitey brief.
Note, I commit to NEVER participating in the following trends: Cross Fit, Strip-aerobics, jazzercize, aerial yoga, ironmans, triathalon, tough mudder* (*this is an all-encompassing category that includes any kind of a multi-layered, elongated, and vigorous activity that is outside and/or contains pain or dirt), any kind of a class with boot camp in the title, base-jumping or anything off the physical ground), anything that involves sharks or cages, and dancing on tables in bars.
Please know I am fully aware this list will grow in time. I get irritated and kinda judgy more often that I would like to admit.
Barre was awesome in theory. Absolutely. Every article I had read basically told me I would look like a supermodel by the time I was done- the first class.
So, I went three times, until plantar fasciitis made its home within my foot. Clingy little fucker. Anyone who has had the privlidge of that ailment knows the pure delight it brings.
I’ll be a supermodel another time.
Spin I love. Truly do.
I began my love affair with spin in Chicago. It was the teacher, really. Then, I found a teacher here who used weights during, and was equally as fantastic and energetic as my Chicago Yoda- so I was hooked again.
Lately, I have not been because I’m just too damn tired to get up for the 7:30am Saturday class. I attempted to go this weekend, but having just got back from a trip- I opted for laundry instead and hit the gym around 11am.
Hi treadmill, I missed you.
Step Class was a college thing. I used to do the advertising for Campus Recreation, so I took the classes of my friends who were studying to become instructors. It was fun. I fell a lot.
Tae Bo I don’t even remember when I did this, I think also college. Double and triple time killed me. Where is Billy Blanks these days anyway?
Plyometrics was awesome until a friend of mine broke his foot mid-class during one of the jumps. Yep, next.
YouTube I still do sometimes. I’m most recently in some pain because of this inner thigh workout. I did it twice this last week. Try it, you’ll see what I’m talking about. Then try it two days in a row. Ouch. I will probably do it again this week once I stop limping.
Weights are an “every once in a while” thing. I know I should do them more, but I also know that when I do them too much my arms make some smaller men jealous. No, thank you. But yes, I can probably beat you in an arm wrestling match. Sorry, I’m German- it’s natural.
Zumba: I was laughing at my lanky body in the mirror the whole time. Seriously. I just kept laughing. There are mirrors everywhere! While I did find this fun as hell, I don’t think I would waste another hour of my life humiliating myself with just how white I really am.
Yoga was something I REALLY wanted to get good at. A lifetime of running without stretching has left my body a knotted mess of lactic acid. I have tried with individual instructors, small classes, beginner and advanced teachers- I just don’t think my body was meant to bend that way. I also got really creeped out when they touch your feet. I’m all set with their bendy ways. That is awesome that you can touch your toes- show off.
TODAY was going to be different. Today was the day I was going to do BIKRAM YOGA and be good at it! I would go to the whole 90 minute class, love the heat, sweat and feel amazing. I even convinced my friend Beth to go with me- which is a feat, getting her out of bed early, on her one day to sleep in.
Sure, she gave me a few caveats:
“Katie, it’s really hot.”
“Katie, it will smell.”
“Katie, when I pass out, you are carrying me.”
I lasted 34 minutes before starting to see stars and black out.
We left. Fuck you, Bikram Yoga.
my kisses to beth for agreeing to meet me at 8am.
beth’s reply.
Guess I better update my iPhone with some new songs cause tramps like us, baby, we were born to run. So true, Bruce, so true.
I have been asked why I love advertising so much, and where this love was rooted. Well, I remember the moments exactly, actually.
Quick back story: My mother’s side of the family lives in Milton, MA, which is roughly an hour and a half from our small town in NH. Every Catholic holiday of the majority of my childhood, you’d most likely find me sitting in the way, way back of a station wagon (wood panelling and all).
For those familiar with the drive, remember they might begin in NH on the Spaulding Turnpike. After a few miles of 3-4 Billboards and non-descriptive trees, you find that glorious entrance to 95S, then Route 1 through Danvers, Peabody, Lynn, Sagus, Revere, Chelsea, and then FINALLY the Boston skyline appears as you turn to pick up 93S.
You might remember how long this drive seemed – or can imagine how long it was to a kid.
Most kids take that time to sleep through it, but not this one. Every billboard, advertisement, building, road, and sign I passed along the way had it’s own story I could recite a million times.
I recall clear as day the plastic cows & giant cactus at the Hilltop Steakhouse, an orange dinosaur just at the highway splits at the edge of the mini golf place (that I swear use to be purple), and the giant (always seemingly empty) Chinese restaurant on the distant hill. Then, as you enter the city, just as the buildings begin, there was a giant inflated Pink Panther that sat on top of a building, but right before the the multi-colored water towers just as you pass the city behind was my favorite of all- a painted billboard on the side of a brick building.
The advertisement was simply a model wearing a pair of cuffed jeans, in a stance that mirrored the power of Superman. The sideways white and red ‘tag’ of LEVI displayed small along the side.
This perfect display of whitespace, copy, beauty, power, and simplicity changed my life forever.
According to Levi Strauss & Co.’s website, under a ‘Heritage‘ section:
The 1961 movie, The Misfits, is notable for its critical acclaim, its star-studded cast and its fame as the final film appearance for Marilyn Monroe and co-star Clark Gable. I retraced Marilyn Monroe’s experience filming The Misfits in Western Nevada in order to uncover some of the mystique surrounding the actress and the Levi’s® jeans she famously wore in the movie.
Directed by acclaimed film-maker John Huston, The Misfits features Monroe as a divorcée who falls for an over-the-hill cowboy (Gable). Gable plays a stubbornly independent cowboy who is known to occasionally drink too much. His rodeo-riding sidekick, Montgomery Clift, also appears in the film.
The black and white film showcases rugged Nevada landscapes near the Comstock — the site of one of the world’s richest ore discoveries that sparked a silver rush in the 1850s. Mining camps and commercial centers, like Virginia City and Gold Hill, flourished for decades around the Comstock Lode. Tailor Jacob Davis even operated a business in Virginia City before partnering with Levi Strauss & Co. on the patent for the first riveted pants, today’s blue jeans.
Fast forward to just before my 14th birthday. My mom, aunt and uncle took me to New York City. We did the whole “tourist” thing, and saw everything. From our waitress at Planet Hollywood telling us a story about how this guy who plays Opera man on SNL won’t stop calling/bugging her roommate, the famous FAO Schwartz Walking Piano still on display, the insane attention to detail inside the The Plaza hotel, the mystery of Central Park, getting my make-up done by the make-up artists of the stars (or so she claimed), and a very nervous Steven Spielberg inside Saks Fifth Avenue (with a woman trying on shoes, who was NOT Kate Capshaw). It was a trip rivaling Home Alone 2: Lost in New York.
Side (sad) note: We also happened to be directly downtown when the World Trade Center wax bombed- the first time. The date was February 26, 1993. We were in the taxi at 12:18 PM when it happened- and we felt it. Little did we know the gravity of that shake until we were in the hotel later that afternoon.
We passed through the streets to make it directly towards the center of the tourist action when that feeling from my youth happened again. I forgot the power of it inside my stomach. This time it was a billboard in the center of Times Square. I was speechless, mouth gaped open staring at it. It mirrored the simplicity of my original back in Boston.
At the time, Calvin Klein was making it’s mark, once again, with a scantily clad model. You might remember this guy:
picture this, but like really really big. good vibrations.
It was amazing and I was captivated.
Fast forward again to college. One of my favorite classes talked about the history of advertising. I learned about all things under the umbrella I planned to call home.
I was madly in love with every single element of advertising. I wanted to learn more.
Obviously, the class begun with the typical origin story, the greats, the icons, the moment makers. I loved every bit of it. I didn’t know what I loved most about it, so I made a point to have an internship in every angle of it. Television, radio, newspaper, media buying, creative, etc. I majored in it. I LOVED it. This will add a little more merit to the reference I made one post back, regarding me falling asleep in the front row of a lecture, by a major agency CEO. I tried writing a letter of apology, it was ignored. Life lesson? I have no idea, but it’s probably best not to have a narcolepsy phase in front of the CEO of the agency you recently applied to.
Outcome: despite that silly little sleepy moment, my resume was awesome upon graduation, and I had a broad knowledge of the ins and outs of the field. While most people focus on a specific thing- similar to a medical or legal profession- I wanted all of it.
a personal favorite.
Years later when I lived in Chicago, one of the most memorable moments of that time was riding in an elevator in River North section of the city. I was heading to a top floor for a meeting when the elevator suddenly stopped on a different floor.
When the door opened, I saw this:
don’t bunt. aim out of the ball park. aim for the company of immortals. -d.o.
It was the most beautiful and unexpected site I had seen in that stupid city.
Tears started streaming down my face like a girl at a One Direction concert. It was not only bad timing, as I was on my way to a meeting, but it was REALLY unexpected.
Quit crying like a baby, Katie! I
had the same experience upon looking at the Leo Burnett building for the first time. I can honestly say that aside from the view in my apartment on Lake Shore Drive, the thing I loved most about Chicago was the cluster of amazing advertising icons who walked it’s streets throughout history.
As of today, I have been in the “marketing” field for over 15 years. Yes, I count the time spent in college because I was working my ass off! I still love it. It’s certainly changed, and I can’t say the greats of today have hit the mark with every ad, I can say that the people making it should know there is a girl in Maine alwaysappreciating the people who founded it for us to love.
hanging in my office, right now.
A common question people ask is “if you could have (fill in the activity- drink, dinner, etc) with one person, living or dead, who would it be?” Well, I think you know my answer: Leo, of course.
October 21, 1891 June 7, 1971. American advertising executive who created the Jolly Green Giant, the Marlboro Man, Toucan Sam, Charlie the Tuna, Morris the Cat, the Pillsbury Doughboy, the 7up “Spot”, and Tony the Tiger.
I might have to bring some tissues though, for he doesn’t strike me as the type who appreciates a good cry.
I have never been a great sleeper. Â Even when blessed with mono through high school and into college, I wasn’t a great sleeper. Â If I nap, I wake up groggy- and can’t seem to get out of the dazed state. Â If I am woken suddenly, then I am in a horrible mood (and might just let you know how much noise you are making through the old fashion way of yelling at you). I’m a light sleeper, so if even the smallest noise should grace my ears- I’m up. Â When I wake up, I can NEVER fall back asleep right away, unless medicated. In college, I had a phase where I would fall asleep anytime and anywhere- this includes the following places: while in the front row of a lecture of a CEO from a major NYC ad agency, while studying in the library, during class, sitting straight up (while watching a movie), come to think of it- I fell asleep during every movie I ever tried to watch back then.
Funny story: The first time I saw Braveheart, my college friend Brandon was CONVINCED I was going to watch a movie, without falling asleep. Â I was sitting on the floor and he was in his bed, an arms reach away. Â Every time I would start to doze off, he would WHACK the top of my head and yell “WAKE UP, SCHMIDT!” Abusive? Perhaps. Effective? Definitely. Â End result? Â I have seen Braveheart. Thanks, Brandon.
it’s all for nothing if you don’t have freedom, err, and sleep.
I think too much, so my mind is never at rest. Â I referenced my picky sleeping needs a while back, but needing the perfect comfort is only half my problem to a perfect sleep. Trust me, as annoying as it is to read this (I realize I sound high maintenance), it is more annoying to live through and experience personally. Â I need the steady sound of my fan (even in sub zero temps outside), the perfect amount of blankets and my pillow just right: soft, but not flat, cold, Â not rough to the touch and cushioned the back of my head into a perfect cup. Â Good God, who the hell do I think I am? Â It’s frustrating!Â
Side note: before all you health nuts go crazy and judge my lifestyle (as I realize that affects sleep), know that I work out almost every day, do not drink coffee, and eat right (by whatever standards “eating right” are these days: no red meat, gluten free, organic, etc). I don’t eat sweets because I gave them up for lent (and slept this way even before giving them up), I haven’t been drinking since Brad gave up alcohol for lent (Okay, I have had some wine a couple of times, but a glass here and there does not make me an abuser of the stuff), and I go to bed reasonably early (8-9pm nightly). It’s probably stress related. Â I digress.
Well, I have a new observation/frustration that I thought I would address: the snooze button. We’re all guilty of abusing it. We set our alarms for that perfect time, with our list of what we must accomplish in order to begin the day. However, come morning: birds chirping (don’t even get me started on nature sounds), cue soft music, and then it happens: the ALARM. Immediate response: snooze. You rest and relax as you realize you have more time to sleep, like finding a $20 in your ski parka, then just as your eyes shut again, ALARM. This process goes on and on for the next half-hour or so, completely debunking your original “get up and at ’em” plan from the previous evening. So I ask this: why not just set the alarm for when you know you will get up? Â Why put yourself through the pain of the ups and downs of the snooze, alarm, snooze, alarm cycle? Â The whole thing seems like torture to me. Then again, we are human and drama is in our nature.
I’m not going to name names, but a certain someone did it for a whole hour this morning. If he were not so damn cute, and if I wasn’t happy about the fact that he was staying in bed longer, I would have complained- or even yelled.
worst invention, indeed.
End result: an hour lost of sleep, is an hour of snuggling gained. Â Either way, I’m smiling.
Holidays are coming up. Makes you think about everything that happened the year leading up to it. As I reflect, it occurs to me just how much I am thankful for the good things in my life. Studies show that people respond to a list, so I thought I would simply be a good student and blog accordingly. I’ll keep it to five things, but know there are hundreds more. Unfortunately, I am long-winded, but you probably knew that already.
1. I am thankful for the times I had with my grandmother, Lois, who passed just a few weeks ago. She was southern and cheery and perverted and creative.
How many people can admit that their grandmother was perverted? Oh, I can. I will not go into details, out of respect, but let’s just say I’m accurate. She was married 3 times and even after her last husband passed, was on the prowl.
The story goes: Lois Rose was a beautiful woman, and when all the men went off to war- they would insist she wait for them upon their return. Her reply was most always a VERY southern “of course.”
Well, once the war ended, one handsome Colonel by the name of Earl Schmidt came to collect on his woman. And the rest is history… kinda.
Colonel Earl Morris Schmidt and his wife, Lois.
The tales I have heard of the men in her life are tragic and unbelievable.
The man she cheated on my grandfather with owned (or part owned?) the emerald mines in Hiddenite, North Carolina. His name was Charles. I believe I met him once.
Over the years, she gave a bunch of the emeralds to different members of my family. I remember this giant stone she held onto for years, but it ended up being basically worthless in the end. Oh, well.
She gave my mother the diamond that ended up being her engagement stone. Years later, it was also mine. The funny thing is no one ever actually paid for the stone, but the value is insane because of something to do with the cut. I have no clue. It’s pretty though.
THEN the guy she cheated on with Charles ended up shooting him- in his mine! Karma? It was a big deal I think, but I don’t remember anyone being very sad about it.
I remember a story about one of her houses being sold to the Russian Embassy.
She taught me about the political parties. Her words and lessons in this regard were so impactful, the first thing I did on my 18th birthday was register to vote. Republican, of course.
I’m sure there are more- and as I think of them I will add to this portion.
She was fantastic at the card game Bridge and played competitively. It actually broke my heart when they told her she couldn’t play anymore because she was unable to mentally keep up.
She truly loved that game. I have been working on my shuffle, but have not yet learned to play. She was fantastic at shuffling. I remember the “thip thip thip thip” they would make as they bent and blended together. Oddly, I believe that’s also called a bir
Lois (not grandma, just Lois) baked FOUR birthday cakes my freshman year of college.
Good Lord could that woman bake.
For years I have tried to mimic her methods, but I can assure you I am only mildly close (and I make a damn good cake). She was very into quilting. In fact, she could sew anything. She use to make my Christmas presents (along with her checks for $5)- and at any age would insist I was an adult size extra large. That means in the 6th grade, when I was a whooping 78 pounds at 5’3″- XL.
It was amusing, but I wore everything, every time. I am thankful for all the memories I had with her, good and bad. I will remember the giant trampoline in her yard that I use to get my head caught in the springs after my sister would convince me that a front flip was safe. Every grandchild was her “favorite,” to which she would say on the phone, as if on cue, “is this my favorite granddaughter?” I will miss traveling to North Carolina to visit, and I will miss her never quite knowing my name (I have 5 girl cousins and a sister, so I was any mixture of the names Caroline, Jennifer, Robin, Jessica, Stephanie, or Erica. If I was lucky, Katie would get a shout out). Rest in peace, Lois, you lived a long life with many people who loved you very much.
my quilt. she made one for each of the granddaughters. i got pink.
Update 11/9/2012: My cousin Caroline mailed me the program from the funeral. She wrote sweet words to speak in her honor, that she also mailed me. She actually reminded me of the fireflies we use to catch in her yard. I loved those little flicks of light and can remember chasing them until my mother would yell for me to come inside. Anyway, the program was filled with many pictures of my grandmother’s life:
loved.
You will notice the above pictures are filled with smiling faces, aside from one.
One person has the audacity to have their tongue sticking out, most inappropriately. I will let you guess which member of the family that would be.
Okay, I will give you a little help.
yes, that is me with my tongue straight out. stylish little thing, wasn’t i?
Sweet dreams, Lois. You were insane and I was petrified of you at times, but I loved you.
2. I am thankful for Brad and Gunnar. I have a boyfriend who is the most amazing man I have ever known. He has integrity and warmth and loves completely and without thought. He is one of the hardest working men I have ever known, and makes me want to be a better person every single day. His son is 14 and lives with us half the time. Gunnar is considerate, sensitive -and so smart it’s crazy. I have no doubt that this young man will grow up to change the world.
But hell, with a dad like that: how could he not? I love spoiling them, cooking for them and living life with them. Most of all, I love stories of them together growing up, and am thankful they have allowed me into their world.
at a BBQ festival this past summer. photo credit: brad.
3. I am thankful for my friends. Okay, I realize this is over-the-top cheesy, but I hope I have kept your attention this far.
If not, I’ll just consider this self therapy. After all, it’s good to appreciate things, even better to appreciate it out loud.
I love my friends for everything they are and everything they are not. I love how they stand by my side when I’m just being a girl (you know: too sensitive, emotional, analytical of everything) . I love that no matter how many times we call each other, it’s not annoying. I love that no topic is off limits. Nothing brightens my days more than a really good conversation to get something off my chest- or to help my friends with whatever they are going through. I love that 7am is not too early to chat. Most of all I love that there is no judgement on either side, ever. I would give my last dollar in the bank to any one of my friends, and they know it. I use to think that longevity was the key to a good friendship, but I now know that it’s loyalty and understanding. Just because you’ve known someone your whole life, doesn’t mean they will stand up for you or do what’s right, and it doesn’t mean they won’t use you. The people in my life who I call friends, I know I call them that with 100% accuracy.
if you saw what she looks like in person, it’s fair to say ANYONE would have encouraged her to wear it, but I was really touched by the compliment.
4. I am thankful for something so many people take for granted, health. We complain about the little things we would like to change about ourselves (breast size, wrinkles, nose shape, weight, etc), without really appreciating the fact that we are living, breathing humans on this earth. People talk about so many things that just don’t matter in the grand scheme of life, and they don’t even realize the amount of people living in pain. Appreciate your health! Take care of yourself! Eat your veggies and put that damn cigarette/cigar out! Don’t do drugs! It’s really quite simple if you think about it. I am done preaching. You will note that I didn’t comment on putting down that glass of wine, well- a little grape juice never hurt anyone, did it?
I also checked with WebMD: “The French diet is often used as an example of how wine can improve heart health. The French have a fairly high-fat diet but their heart disease risk is relatively low. And some have attributed this to red wine.”
5. I am thankful for South Carolina football. This one may seem far fetched from items 1-4, but it’s honest. As a new student at USC- I was miserable. I didn’t know many people, and couldn’t stand being called “yankee” all the time. A friend of mine in my Eastern Asian Civilization class said to me one day, “wait until football starts, you’ll see it all change and you’ll love it.” This was also the same friend who taught me about Krispy Kreme donuts (jerk), and how if you go right when they make them on the belt, they will be warm, gooey, and melting on your tongue, so I took his advice with a grain of salt. Well, he could not have been more on par. South Carolina football changed everything for me. Being from NH, I didn’t know what the hell “tailgating” was, nor had I done it; Neither of my parents are into sports. I was a cheerleader in junior high, but had no idea what it meant when I was yelling “First and Ten!” What do I love about it? The lights of Williams Brice stadium in all it’s glory, the 80,000 person-filled stadium all cheering in unison, the passion of a Carolina/Clemson game, the paupers drinking moonshine with the millionaires, the crowing Gamecock and fireworks- it was magnificent. Is magnificent. I started really watching and really understanding the game. I became addicted. It’s been 11 years since I graduated, and I still watch the games every weekend during season- even if by myself. Most years, I try to make it to a game with my friends. I watch the annual draft with pride, as the players I have followed for the past 4 years go on to the NFL. Recently, one of my favorite players was seriously injured. It broke my heart- so I mailed him a card and pitched to The Ellen Show that he be featured! 15 years I have been a loyal fan of this team, and it’s only the beginning.
Here’s a health, Carolina, forever to thee!
So that’s five things I am thankful for, and as I said, it’s only five out of hundreds.
What are you thankful for as the holiday season begins?
