Homecoming in the Wrong Colors


Stan Birch ‘22
Staff Editor

Standing on the Lawn, drinking a light beer, and shivering to stay warm was the most undergrad thing I’ve done since graduating. Then again, it was Homecoming. The problem for me: I was cheering for the other team.

I grew up watching games in Scott Stadium whenever an alumni weekend brought my family up. Back then it was obvious which team to root for, but after matriculating at Georgia Tech, the annual bet with my dad on who would win the GT game struck up.[1] We gave each other grief for years, but when I announced I was going to the Law School, my dad was happy to have another Hoo in the family. After cheering for the Cavaliers all season, I had to make the tough decision about which team to cheer for.

As I got dressed in my usual white and gold, I was comforted knowing that twelve of my college friends were going to be dressed to match and sitting around me. What I didn’t take into account was that they would be late, and I would be standing on the Lawn in the cold, holding the ingredients for several mimosas, for forty-five minutes. As soon as they showed up, I realized that all of that was quickly going to be fixed, except the cold.

A few minutes later, a snappily-dressed man[2] approached my friends and was kind enough to loan them some solo cups, welcoming them to the University but cautioning them that “The Lawn does not have a liquor license.” Drinks were transferred, thanks were given, and he disappeared as swift and elegantly as he had arrived. As we mingled with the parents and residents of the Lawn, my friends really got a feel for what it was like on grounds. Beer blankets were donned, and it was time to go to the game.

Arriving fashionably late, like anyone who’s ever been to a pregame, didn’t seem like it would make a difference. In this case, those five minutes meant missing a fifty-nine-yard touchdown pass that was there just to get every Yellow Jackets’ fan’s hopes up. Before we knew it, both teams had scored twice and the first quarter had just ended. This game was turning out much closer than any of us were expecting and we were excited. One person in my group asked if I wanted a beer, excited that Scott Stadium had started selling alcohol this year. With a heavy heart, I informed him that this “gameday enhancement” was not all it was cracked up to be. Once you purchase your drink, you have the honor and the privilege to finish it while in one of the new “beverage gardens.”[3] Most importantly, you are required to stay there if you want to enjoy that overpriced can.

As the end of the first half approached, my hopes were elevated once again, only to suffer the same fate as before. With less than a minute left, the Cavaliers took the lead. Once the teams had rushed to the warmth of their locker rooms, the UVA Marching Band took the field. After a few classics, they were joined by members of local high school marching bands for a “Salute to the Space Program.” It was a fun distraction from the cold, but seemed more like a thinly-veiled excuse to play Bryan Adams’ “Summer of 69.”

The second half had a slow start and an unceremonious finish. The Ramblin' Wrecks far beat the seventeen-point spread, but with the final result everyone anticipated. Just before my friends and I left the game, I spotted a family a few rows in front of me, all dressed in Georgia Tech apparel, except one. The back of his hat read “40 Years NGSL” and the front had the distinct “V Law.” We chatted for a moment and his family offered up a few jokes at their dad’s expense. While the rivalry in his family was alive and well, his parting words were one thing his family and my friends could all agree on: “To Hell with Georgia.”

Getting ready for the PILA Auction, I regretted every decision I had made that day since the festivities began at 7 a.m. It turned out far better than I could have hoped, and the night was still young. I might have been cheering for the visiting team in Scott Stadium this past weekend, but with all my friends gathered around, cheering, chatting, and catching up, it really was a successful Homecoming.

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sfb9yu@virginia.edu


[1] In my five years in college (yeah, you read that right), the Yellow Jackets were 4-1 against the Cavaliers.

[2] I’ve since been informed this may or may not have been Dean of Students, Allen Groves.

[3] Virginia Athletics seems to have defined “garden” as a dirt-floored, open, white-flap tent with a small television and far too much security.