Saturday, November 27, 2010

Some random thoughts on the last Pitt home game

So, Pitt lost the "Backyard Brawl."  It was quite disappointing and disheartening but, in the end, it's only a game.

I've come to love the experience of a big time football school.  I went to Grove City where the only thing that was really a big time thing was the idea that you were a heathen if you had not been reborn.  Not my favorite sport.  The feeling of camaraderie and unity and excitement is totally intoxicating.  It also makes me feel sad that I will never get to experience that thrill, that belonging, that pride.  I guess I'll just have to treasure my little contact high and make it my own.

Now... some total non sequiturs.

- It's a football game.  Leave the mink at home..... Sir.

- It's a football game.  Leave the pajamas at home.

- It's a football game.  Leave the 4 inch heels at home.... oh... sorry!  You're working!!

- The Pitt Band ROCKS!  This is not a music school.  There is no music major yet the band is absolutely fantastic!

- The new football unis are meh.  From the stands they were very clean looking.  Up close, it looks like they're wearing a backwards bib.  Oh well, they could be worse.... I guess.  The scary part of the uniforms was the poster that was handed out.  I thought I had escaped the poster when a sad, quiet man came up to me, poked me with the poster, handed it to me, and walked away....  guess he didn't want his either.

- I would think that alumni who spend money year after year for season tickets really care about Pitt football.  I am apparently wrong.  There is a family that sits in front of me that is the most annoying, pretentious, idiotic group of people I've seen in a while... well, at least outside of Venango County.  The Grande Dame sashays in and takes up 3 seats with all her shit - shit I have never seen her use, ever!  Then she stands and undoes her coats/visors/scarves/hats/sweaters/blankets/socks for like 15 minutes.  She also sweeps her hand through her hair and I get to watch the strays float my way.  Did I mention that they come late?  Yep, late every game.  Daddy just goes for food and visits with all the other usual suspects in the section.  There are three kids that come and all they do is eat and whine... and those are the ones in their 20's!  So, I'm trying to watch the pre-show and they're holding court.  "Hi Bob.  How are you?  How's Janice?  Great!  Have you seen Steve and Stacy?  They had to move their seats.  Yeah, they had a little girl!  Blah blah blah blah... wha wha wha whaaaaaa.   Bleargh?  Harrrrrr hourrrr haourrrr.... Ho!  Mwah mwah mwah... magondy.  Sleeertttttttt."  You get the point.  And she's an imperious, pious bitch.  Her shit don't stink, I'm sure.  I won't miss them!  Plus their friend the "Jesus Christ, I can't see the game!  Sit down!" guy.  The first time he said it, it was amusing.  The tenth time, it was an eye roller.  The 2,099,503,948,096,809 time it's just plain FUCKING ANNOYING!!!!!!!!!  SHUT UP!!!!!  YOU ARE NOT FUNNY!!!!!  NO ONE THINKS YOU ARE FUNNY!!!!!

- There was a picture on the Jumbo-tron of the 1910 championship Pitt football team.  Unbeaten, Untied, Unscored Upon.  The guy next to me said, "Wonder if we could get those guys to play today."

- When the temperature is in the low 30's and the wind chill is in the 20's, wear pants... they are the wave of the future.  If you are not wearing pants, you deserve to freeze your nards off you miserable sack of water.

- Along with Shorts Boy is Pretty Girl.  Yes, we know you're pretty, but when you wear your little hip hugger pants, flip flops, tank top, and little cropped jacket with the useless hood (and I call it useless because you don't wear it - you are too worried about your hair!!!!!!), I have absolutely no sympathy for you.  Wear some damn clothes, dammit!!!!!!!!!

 - Hey!  Justin Beiber!  Your hair looks ridiculous... put the hat on and don't be so damn stupid and vain!!

- Surprisingly, I missed my annoying section buddy.  His voice is akin to a steel bar being smacked against your head as lemon wedges are squirted in every open orifice while the sounds of cats scratching metal plates are amplified and piped directly into your ears.  No one knows his name.  He has a single seat.  He only has one hand.  He is a Pitt fan.  Hail to Pitt.

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