It’s been a crazy week.
I don’t think anyone will disagree with me for saying that. First, the band gets banned from the football game. Then, the band gets un-banned from the football game. Next, our football team actually wins. Finally, head football coach Norries Wilson is fired.
I’m exhausted just reflecting back on all of it. Some of it was depressing. Some of it was amazing. All of it was exhausting to be around.
But amid all of the craziness, there’s one more thing to remember: For any seniors involved with the football team, this is it. It’s over.
So, while we’re all focused on so many other things about this past week, I think it’s important to remember, that for about 40 people, fall as we know it is over.
I say about 40 because there are more people invested in the football season than most people realize.
There are, of course, the 24 seniors on the football team. These are the guys whose lives are easily the ones most affected. There are also 13 seniors in the band, and then there’s me. This analysis may seem selfish, and I suppose it is, but I’m affected, too, just like the band is, just like the players are.
For all of us seniors, things are about to change mighty quickly. The changes for the players are obvious: It’s over. No more football.
For the members of the band, no more football games. The void is smaller than it is for the players—and it will be filled with basketball—but they’ve played their last football game after four years of attendance.
And for me, my time covering the team has come to a close. There are a couple loose ends to tie up this week—but after that, my Saturdays are suddenly going to be very free, and I’m going to have a much smaller presence on these pages.
For all of us, it’s going to be weird. But, that’s what I think made this Saturday’s game so special, and it’s why I don’t want the result of that game to be lost among the news of Coach Wilson’s firing and the commotion about the band.
Saturday’s game was a game of heart. It was a fight for respect, both external and internal. It was a fight to be able to walk out of the stadium with your head held high.
When it comes down to it, how much did Saturday’s game matter? Brown wasn’t going to win the league anyway. The best the Bears could hope for was second, and they got that despite losing. The Lions were 0-9, and a place in the Ivy cellar was long reserved for them. There was really nothing to gain other than a little happiness.
But despite the lack of hope for salvaging the season, the Light Blue participated in what was truly a lion fight. The team rallied in the fourth quarter, and the players earned their right to a showdown in overtime—they worked for every yard and every stop they earned.
It was amazing to watch. Heart-attack-inducing, but amazing. To stop Brown before the goal line like they did four times in a row, that’s something really special and quite impressive.
As someone who loves the team, it was so hard to sit in the press box, unable to scream or cheer or celebrate, but watching the team crowd the sideline and sing “Roar, Lion, Roar” made up for it more than anything, because they worked so hard for that win and deserved that moment of joy more than anything.
Yesterday’s win, in my opinion, was a perfect showing of determination and willpower.
I think junior quarterback Sean Brackett phrased it best in the post-game press conference when he said, “I think in overtime, it’s just will. You just have to want it more. I think if you ask anyone on the team how they felt about the game, they didn’t want to be denied.”
So on behalf of all the seniors who aren’t on the field each Saturday but are always there, thank you. It’s been a rough season and a crazy week with more craziness ahead, but ending with a game like that makes all the difference.
Victoria Jones is a Barnard College senior majoring in French.
sports@columbiaspectator.com

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