go jeffs(!?)

Early Saturday morning I dragged my tired booty out of bed and searched my closet for any and all Amherst gear I could find. Turns out I have I only have the child-sized hoodie I got in freshman year (only $29), a pair of Amherst sweats and a tote. Its homecoming weekend, my last as an undergrad so I wanted to at least look like a proud Amherst kid.

As my friends and I walked over to the field talking about our chances of winning this year's game against Wesleyan and last year's defeat against Williams, I was already plotting my escape. I would slip out during halftime having paid my dues. But then a weird thing happened. I actually had fun.

No, I didn't really follow the game. I don't know much about football, don't care to, and our team has more of a shot of being drafted to work at Merrill Lynch than to the NFL. Nor do I know any of our fight songs. Hell, I didn't even know we had them, until some older alums (class of '55), invited us to sing along. But as I reconnected with old friends, tailgated and incessantly chanted "go Jeffs!", I realized that although my college and I have had a tempestuous relationship, we have some good times. Amherst and I are like Kimora and Russel Simmons - although they broke up, they still have an amicable relationship. And when I dip on out with my class cane and degree on hand on graduation day, officially breaking ties with AC, I hope to maintain a good relationship. At least for the kids (and by the kids, I mean underclassmen friends)