With the Columbia football team winning all five games it’s played this season, it’s time we face the facts:
Columbia is one win away from renting pick-up trucks and lustfully looking at their cousins.
Sadly, Columbia has become a football school.
I was fine with us being an archery school, or a lacrosse school. Even a tap dance school, given everyone’s preferred gait while walking through Butler.
But a football school?
Now my feeds are littered with tags of Baker Field. People are proudly wearing their Columbia Football t-shirts, their faces covered in temporary Roaree tattoos that last longer than all of my relationships combined.
My entire feed is just pantone 292! People are actually smiling and even acknowledge the football team’s existence.
We’ve gone from an Ivy League school known for suicides (no that’s, surprisingly, somehow still Cornell), Meatless Mondays to a school where coaches are exploiting their players and falsifying their GPAs.
This is exactly why I declined Ole Miss, the Oxford of the Trailer Park Belt. I could have been a legacy baby, cracking open a cold one during Tuesday morning backyard sessions with my uncle-professor, wearing Confederate Flag shorts better than Trump dons his MAGA hat/golf polo combo.
I could have been riding shotgun on a tractor, shotgunning a beer while on the way to our tailgating party outside our 65,000-seat stadium—enough for everyone and their mothers, plus their memaws and seven other siblings.
Instead, I chose Columbia, formerly ranked 173 nationwide for their football team. My first three years here were amazing: fall was just a reason people got SAD, the football players in my French class were just tired like everyone else. I got a little worried last year when they won their first two games—in like, ever—but I should have known that was the beginning of Columbia’s Football era.
I guess we’ll wait until Saturday for them to win again, and then win the chip. Is it too late to transfer to Wagner?