We went to the first Trojan home game of the year yesterday
Arriving in Los Angeles before a game, I am filled with nostalgia and excitement. It's really something special to attend games at a site like the Coliseum. What other football team plays in a stadium this special? In addition to USC and its many football championships, the Coliseum has hosted the Olympics in 1932 and 1984, a World Series (1959) and MLB All-Star game (1959), the first Super Bowl (1967) as well as Super Bowl VII (1973). It has also been home to the Dodgers, Rams, Raiders, Chargers, Trojans and Bruins. My grandfather won a medal in a high school track meet there in 1929. I can't imagine what the Bruins were thinking when they left this field to play 20 miles from campus at the Rose Bowl. Besides, the Rose Bowl is the second home of the Trojans anyway. No one has won any single bowl more times than USC's 21 Rose Bowl wins.
Hearing "Conquest" live for the first time of the year always makes my heart race. Screaming "Beat the Razorbacks" and yelling awooo, awoooo! during Conquest is like waking up on Christmas morning to me. The fact that USC's opponents hate that song so much only adds to the thrill of hearing it. The sound is so regal, so full of tradition, so full of power and victory. There are few college songs as powerful and full of meaning, though Fanfare, Tribute to Troy and Fight On are pretty good, too.
I love the grandeur of the cardinal and gold colors everywhere, on signs, streamers, jerseys, t-shirts, caps. I briefly feel sympathy for teams with colors less regal: the green/yellow teams, the orange teams, the browns, and the powder blues.
I pity the fans whose teams have no chance to compete for the national championship. The teams who hang conference championship banners in their stadium because that's all they have. The teams who call a season a success if they win more than they lose. The teams whose seasons would be defined by a victory over my team. I enjoy following the band over from the campus to the stadium as they play Cadence. I love to walk past the headless athletes in front of the peristyle.
I even enjoy searching for tickets when I arrive ticketless to the game. I have season seats, but I sold my tickets to this game. Why? Because I knew I would make a profit on the tickets, and I knew I could replace them, at face value, with better seats. That strategy won't work for the UCLA game, but with a non-conference foe coming in fresh off a loss to Vanderbilt, it's a sure bet.
I parted with my regular tickets and looked for a new pair. I skipped the collection of scalpers congregating near the rose garden. Those guys are just out to make a buck, and while I don't begrudge them that opportunity, dealing with them is a last resort, to be faced only after you've tried to meet up with some alumnus with extras. The alumnus with extras can be harder to find, but when you find him, you almost never have to pay above face value (if you are wearing the right colors), and he usually has better seats than my season tickets. Last night, I found him two hours before the game. He had section 8 seats on the 30-yard line. This gave me about the same view that you got watching the game on Fox Sports.
With tickets safely in hand, I was able to enjoy Fan Fest, where I got a football antenna ball from the L.A. Times, and I had a chance to meet up with some friends among the Thundering Herd, the group of crazies in sections 12 and 13 around the players' tunnel, who never sit during the game.
Once inside the stadium, I walked through the tunnel and emerged into one of the most beautiful sights in all of sports. If you sit close enough, you can actually smell the grass. It is as green and anything that has every grown. The freshly chalked lines are perfect. You can see the Heisman jerseys spread out across the sections below the peristyle. You can see the championship banners hanging on the walls around the field of play.
The band plays, marching in perfect symmetry. They play some of the most famous songs in the world. Fight On trumpets through the air. The video screen shows players walking toward the end of the tunnel, and the crowd begins to roar. After a few moments, most of the team is standing at the mouth of the players' tunnel, jumping up and down feverishly. Finally, one of them turns and sprints toward the field, and all others follow. The crowd explodes in sound, and kickoff cannot possibly come soon enough.
The band plays the softest rendition of The Star Spangled Banner ever. There is never a singer. The crowd does the singing. When it is done, the players line up for the kickoff, the prettiest cheerleaders on the planet begin to cheer, and the crowd begins to yell, reaching a higher pitch with each passing second, building to a crescendo as the kicker's foot meets the ball.
I remember the dark days, between the glory of the 1970s and 1980s, and the current glory of USC program, when words like "bowl eligible" slipped from our mouths like it was a noble goal in and of itself. I remember what it was like to watch my team lose at this great place, and not just to championship contenders like Florida State, Kansas State and Notre Dame. Only one USC player has ever played in a loss at home. Fifth-year senior William Buchanan played in a loss to Kansas State in 2001. A few others stood on the sidelines to witness a loss to Stanford later that season. I remember losses to Washington State, Memphis State. Those were not happy days. But these are not those days.
Before long, USC scores and the Traveler, the white horse, appears on the field. He sprints along the sideline as the USC yell leaders begin doing pushups to mark the Trojan score. In the first quarter, USC enjoyed scoring drives of 38, 26, 13 and 15 seconds. They scored on their third, fourth, sixth and eighth plays from scrimmage. After the second touchdown, we joked that it would be tough to maintain that "touchdown every other play" pace, but they did it on the next two possessions. The first half ended with 8 touchdowns in 9 possessions, the only non-scoring drive coming when the Trojans ended the half inside Arkansas territory.
I found that I don't like instant replay when I'm at the stadium. It's great when I'm watching at home. I can tell which way the call will go usually, and I know what's going on. At the game, it's just a pain in the ass. Unless, of course, it reverses a bad call that could cost my team the game.
The game had an element of deja vu for us, as the Razorbacks were clad in white and red jerseys that resembled Oklahoma's road jerseys that they wore in the Orange Bowl. The scoring fest also reminded us of the Orange Bowl. I remember seeing the Arkansas crowd going wild with a hog cry or something when USC had to line up for its first third down. I felt bad for them, having to cheer such small victories.
Pete Carroll sure has come a long way since he was a $182 a month assistant to Lou Holtz's Arkansas team in 1977. Current Hog coach Houston Nutt has come a long way, too. He was a backup quarterback on that 1977 team, and was the Razorbacks' ball boy when USC played them in the early 70s.
I left the game early. I love watching them light the Olympic flame at the start of the 4th quarter, so we stayed for that, but we headed out after watching freshman Patrick Turner's first career TD reception. That gave us the joy of listening to Paul McDonald on the radio, calling the action as his son, walk-on Michael McDonald, got into his first game and threw his first touchdown pass. For his career, now, McDonald is 1-1 with 1 TD and no INTs. That's pretty good.
My favorite stat of the day: USC threw to 8 different receivers, all of whom gained an average of 12 or more yards per catch.
The most meaningless stat of the day: time of possession. In the first quarter, USC had the ball for 1:32. Arkansas had it for 13:28. Score at the end of the quarter: USC 28, Arkansas 7.
Favorite moment of the night: Leinart's touchdown run.
Second favorite: Kirkland's jump over a defender into the end zone.
Third favorite: the Arkansas QB getting hit so hard, his wristband play sheet got knocked downfield.
Best milestone of the night: Leinart's 4th TD pass, giving him 78 career TDs, one more than John Elway. That moved him into third place in Pac-10 history.
It was a bad night for Stanford. Not only did Elway drop a notch in the career standings, but the Cardinal lost to UC Davis. UC Davis? I'll bet Norm Chow wouldn't have lost to UC Davis. Stanford blew that coaching call. But Walt Harris has one thing to be grateful for: he isn't stuck coaching that 2005 Pitt team.
I can't wait for next week. Beat the Ducks!
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