A little diddly designed to let the world know that God himself roots for their team.
Especially down here below the Mason-Dixon Line.
In my town, we're a little partial to the ever-so-simple and yet clever-enough-to-be-printed-on-countless-T-shirts mantra:
The sun is orange,
The sky is blue,
God must be,
A Gator, too!
(And let me just say, we don't stop there. I have a crocheted Christmas tree ornament that declares "Santa is a Gator" that I bought at a craft fair. You can't get more Southern than that, my friends.)
Yes, we definitely love our sports teams in this country, so much so that we're willing to deck our own babies out in "House Divided" onesies, playing virtual King Solomons and splitting our children right down the middle. (My poor kids will have to wear orange and blue and red and white, for the Florida Gators and the Arkansas Razorbacks. Talk about a fashion disaster.)
It's amazing what we'll do to cheer on a bunch of people in multi-colored jerseys tossing around various balls.
Still, you almost have to pick an alliance. You either never watch a sports game in your life - which, let's face it, is virtually impossible in this day and age - or you choose a side.
And way back when I was 18, when I made the decision to attend the University of Florida, I chose to be a Gator.
I'll be honest; I didn't choose the school because of its stellar athletics. (I know. Perish the thought.)
I chose UF because I got a full-ride to attend the school, and my parents were in no position to send me away to the private college of my dreams. (William & Mary, I sometimes still fantasize about you, with your quaint setting and your historical surroundings. You will always be my first love. Sniff, sniff.)
But I made the best of it, and if that meant spending inordinate amounts of the time in the blazing Florida sun cheering on a football team, screaming "Orange!" and "Blue!", I was in.
Now, at the time, I was by no means just jumping on the bandwagon.
The Florida Gators were in a bit of slump during my college attendance. We were dealing with a less-than-hallowed coach (remember Ron Zook?) who spent a few too many hours in the dining hall (I know this because so did I) than on the practice field.
So when I say I cheered for the Gators in the blazing sun, I should also mentioned that I cheered for the Gators in the blazing sun while watching them lose very important games.
It wasn't a bright spot in our history, and I was no fair-weather fan.
But times have changed. We Gator fans are now in the almost-sacred era of Urban Meyer, Tim Tebow and National Championships. (Oh, my!)
Apparently, we're winners once again, and if you listen to the natives in this town (yes, I still live in the town where I went to college) it's because several of our restaurants have resurrected shrines of Tim Tebow - there's actually a life-sized wooden carving outside one infamous grill here - and that Tebow himself has a direct line to God.
Apparently, the aforementioned natives didn't get the memo that God doesn't take sides in sporting events.
They can't quite grasp that, yes, the sun is indeed orange, and sure, the sky is rather blue, but the grass is also green, and the flowers are also gold. And Notre Dame has Touchdown Jesus.
It's just all so confusing.
I mean, I hate to think about it, but my good blog-friend Traci and I will be cheering against each other this weekend. (Traci, I know our friendship is stronger than this, right? I mean, both of our teams wear orange - granted, very different shades of orange, but orange nonetheless! Promise we'll still be friends after it's all over? Promise?)
Or that dear, sweet Amber is an LSU alum and fan. (Amber, please tell me we will still be on speaking terms in two weeks time.)
Than there's another good blog-friend and Oklahoma fan, Sam, who doesn't hold much love for any Gators. It's only because she's a sweet enough to look past my SEC team of choice that she still remains my friend today. (Seriously, Sam, thanks for looking past my affinity for the orange and blue.)
Not to mention all of you out there who are Georgia Bulldogs, Arkansas Razorbacks (like my darned husband,) or (gasp!) Florida State Seminoles.
I'm sure you all hate me and my Gator-loving ways right about now, don't you?
I can't say I blame you. I mean, everybody loves the underdog.
And right now?
The Gators are the anti-underdog.
We're not getting a lot of love unless we're among our own these days.
My whole point is: Life's hard when we're not all rooting for the same team.
And as we enter into the real meat of the college football season, I may or may not allude on my blog to the fact that I attended a football game, which the Gators may or may not have won, which I may or may not be fairly happy about, which means we may or may not beat your team of choice, which means you may or may not be unhappy, which means you may or may not want to kill any and all Gators you can get your hands on.
Allegedly.
So if you see me wearing orange and blue in a picture, please don't take it as a personal affront.
If I mention that my team won - again, allegedly - don't send me hate mail.
If I dangle my "Santa is a Gator" ornament proudly before you all in some future post, please, don't take it personally.
Because if it came down to football v. blog friends, I'd pick you all any day of the week.
Even if you are a Florida State Seminole.
Go Gators (and everybody else!)
***
Dad, how proud are you right about now? I managed a blog post about football! And I even included Touchdown Jesus. I guess I really am your daughter:)Have a wonderful weekend everyone!
