What Little I Have to Give

I am, frankly speaking, not a sports guy. Performance statistics and feats of athleticism do little to hold my attention. What I care about is storytelling: Lore. Heartbreak. Glory. I say this at the outset, so there are no questions about what you are getting with me: I don’t know ball. 

But my love for the California Golden Bears is incomparable. Earlier this year, my NFL team won the Super Bowl. Imagine my glee as I watched the Birds demolish the two time defending champs! Magical, I assure you. But a minute after the final whistle, as the green and white confetti fell and those good vibes washed over me, I turned to my brother, still smiling, and shared a new revelation: “I would never cry over this team.”

I cry when Cal loses a regular season game in October. I cry when a 6-6 Cal team goes to the Independence Bowl in Shreveport, Louisiana. And on the day the Bears simply qualify for the Rose Bowl again, they will have to invent new language to describe what I’ll feel. I did not grow up caring about sports, but perhaps the biggest change my four years in Berkeley had on me was rewiring my brain, dialing up the sicko meter as far as it would go. 

i am unfortunately 0-2 at games where i take a pic with oski

I have no talent for shitposting, but what little I have to give the program I love is my humble gift with the written word. This season I will be working on the data and stats side of the Write for California team. My qualifications? Innumerable middle school mathletes trophies, four years at The Daily Cal, and a heart of (blue and) gold.    

What I am pursuing here is the narrative, and if I need to wade through performance statistics or indulge in feats of athleticism to find it, then so be it. Let’s have some fun with this. Go Bears.