SEATTLE – First off, please understand that I’m a proud graduate of Western Washington University. I love the school. In many ways, it changed my life and I’ll never forget it. Best seven years I ever spent.
Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk.
So as a Western grad, I naturally have my allegiances – especially in this game, Saturday night’s Battle in Seattle at Qwest Field against arch-rival Central Washington University.
The amazing thing about this, of course, is that you’ll never detect my understandable bias. You’ll never notice my Viking-blue feelings for the godless – er, sorry! – the fine CWU program.
My best friend is a Central grad, so naturally we’d bet dinners on football and men’s basketball games. Unfortunately for me, the motherless hoard – oops, no, forget that! – the Wildcats went on a series of unspeakably fluky seasons – oops! – put together several decent years in a row and regularly beat WWU like an egg yolk.
After about six years and 18 straight losses, I owed my buddy enough food to feed the crew on the USS Abraham Lincoln. Mercifully, he called off the dogs. Sucker.
Another friend (also a CWU grad) e-mailed me that I’d be able to see him clearly, even from across the field. He said he’d be the one in the CWU section, French’s mustard lathered on his bare chest, screaming obscenities at the Western rooters. Then, he said, he’ll return to his quiet life in suburbia.
I hope his son, a current WWU student, is proud.
Even through my Western ties, though, I have great loathing – er, excuse me! – respect for Central and its fine coach, Homer Simpson – uh, sorry – John Zamberlin. Going into Saturday’s game, Zamberlin, a former NFL player, came into the game with a 61-38 record in his 10th year at the school. His teams are known for their criminal – oops, sorry! – aggressive style of play and for paying off the zebras – er, no! – for their great discipline.
Hey, if Central played North Korea, I’d be there holding up a picture of Kim Jong il – er, scratch that! – I’d be right there supporting them.
It’s about five minutes before kickoff. Central’s thugs – er, sorry! – student-athletes just came out of their locker room. I’ll fill in as the game allows.
(Sometime later) Were Vegas giving action on this game, WWU would be a decided underdog. But that’s the beauty of rival games. In my mind, Western is no worse than even-up against the Evil Empire – er, sorry! – the Wildcats.
I thought that, anyway, until the third play of the game, when a blitzing Wildcats cornerback Ryan Andrews (a turncoat – er, sorry! – a Lake Stevens High School grad) slammed into quarterback James Monrean, caused him to fumble and linebacker Chris James tripped over the ball – um, sorry! – recovered in the end zone.
That was my first clue it would be a long night.
Why am I surprised? At Central, they eat, drink and sleep under highway overpasses – um, sorry! – football. And I have to hand it to wussy-boy – oops! – quarterback Mike Reilly, a transfer from Washington State. At 6-foot-3, 212 pounds can both stand impressively in the pocket and run like a scared ox – er, sorry! – run for first downs.
Reilly is another in a series of ringers Central seems to get to in every sport. Give the Wildcats credit for offering majors in Physical Beingness – er, sorry! – for heady recruiting practices.
(Some more time later) Well, it’s over and the dog-kicking, George Michael-listening, senior-citizen-swindling – oops, strike that! – the Wildcats slid by with a 42-28 victory over the game Vikings.
The sad thing is that we have to wait another year for the Battle in Seattle. For now, the Vikings have to live with the defeat, while the Wildcats Central can bus it happily back to their prison cells – er, no! – homes, basking in victory.
Congrats, Central. Here’s hoping for six years’ worth of forfeits stemming from an NCAA investigation that turns up illegal payments, recruiting violations and a stripper named Boopsie – oops! – continued success.
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