February may be traditionally thought of as a woman’s month, what with the huge emphasis on Valentine’s Day, romance, and the like. Yet this is probably only to make up for the huge excess of neglect in January and the beginning of February by the general male population (and those sports-loving women-folk).
Two huge games occured this February: the Super Bowl, of course, between the Colts and the Bears, and last night’s Duke-Maryland Game.
The Super Bowl was really fun, though I missed probably the most important part of the game. Two of my friends from college and my best friend Monika from high school joined my parents, Uncle Roop and Nannie at our house to watch it. I had fun in the first half trying to explain the rules of football to my friend Wajiyya, commenting on the commercials and being the only one of us actually watching the game. I thought the Prince halftime show was spectacular; while as a singer he may be questionable, as a performer he’s unbeatable.
At some point after half-time (at which, I might add, the bears were still in the lead, or at least none too far behind), as only a group of crazy teenage girls can do, all of us had an immense and unfathomable urge for ice cream. So, in the middle of the game, we got up, hopped into my car (with the promise that we’d listen to the game on the radio in the car– it didn’t happen) and set out. With the mall closed and most outside ice cream shops closed for the winter, we had three choices- Baskin Robbins, TCBY, or Giant. Giant was vetoed immediately by everyone, but there was a raging debate between Baskin Robbins and TCBY. Finally, to settle the heat, I suggested we might go to Coldstone. Everyone was cool with it (in fact, as soon as Coldstone was mentioned, suggesting we NOT go there would have meant my death) so we made the trek out to Arundel Mills to get some ice cream. Mom and Dad were, meanwhile, wondering what could possibly have taken us so long.
By the time we got back, there were three minutes left on the clock and the Colts were dominating, much to my surprise and, might I add, dismay.
And yes, last night’s basketball game against Duke.
The Maryland-Duke rivalry is long, strong and particularly vicious. Post-game riots in the past have been the cause of much destruction on and around campus, from mattress burning to bus-tipping. Anti-rioting campaigns have filled the area, and the events leading up to yesterday’s game were as tense as they were exciting.
Area police were armed and ready, awaiting the crowds. Students were drunk early in the day, rowdy, raucous and ready. The funny thing about Maryland is that the result of the game doesn’t even matter in the riot context. They riot if they win. They riot if they lose. They just riot.
Well, except for last night. Whatever happened, the anti-rioting measures seemed to have been successful- at least on route 1. I was holed up in my dorm the whole time trying to avoid contact with the outside world lest their drunken stupidity rub off on me. It didn’t seem to matter, though. There were no huge fights, or burnings, or destruction. The only difference seemed to be a whole in the wall and the shattered glass on the front door. Bad as this may seem, it was still a lot better than expected.
And thus, my faith in humanity is slightly restored. Well, at least for now.