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Carly: Teach 'em how to Bucky



Just so we're clear, I was born and raised in Madison, WI and just happened to end up at the University of Minnesota. There are several reasons for this:
1. Madison didn't have my major.
2. Being 4.5 hours away from my parents seemed really appealing at the time.
and....
3. Let's be real...I didn't have a 4.0 GPA.

Anyway, despite spending my years since high school in Gopher country, I am a Badger fan. I own more Badger shirts than I do Gopher paraphernalia, and I have been to far more sporting events where we "jumped around" than not. Even though Ron Dayne isn't in the NFL anymore, I was just as awestruck when I met him, and I still get way too excited when I can get my picture taken with Bucky Badger (even though I know he's just a sweaty college kid inside the head). As a rule, I just think that the general population looks so much more attractive in red and white than they do in maroon and gold. I'm not trying to start anything by saying this, I just think that goldenrod isn't a pretty color on any pasty-white midwesterners. After reading my previous disclosure, you can imagine that I was so incredibly stoked that the Badgers made it to the Rose Bowl this year, and even more excited that I was at the Northwestern game that sealed the deal.

I might have been a little bitter that my parents actually made the trek to Pasadena this year with my two little brothers to smell the roses, but given the outcome of the game, I am okay that I stayed in the deep freeze of MN.

So what do you do when the colors you bleed (lucky for me, I actually DO bleed red), whatever they may be fail you? Minnesota fans are no strangers to heartbreak. The Vikings, the Twins, the Gophers, the Wild, and the Timberwolves have all let us down a time or two. Do we love them all that much more for it because they're sort of lovable-albeit-overpaid professional screw ups? Or do we hate them because they had the potential and blew it? cough*Favre*cough...oh, excuse me.

You may not agree with me, but I'm all for the optimistic approach. After I nurse my pride for a day or two (christmas cookies help immensely), I move on to the next season/sport/game and cheer like hell so that all of my Badger-hating peers stop saying "better dead than red" to me. (Jerks!)





This post first appeared on Groucho Sports, please read the originial post: here

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Carly: Teach 'em how to Bucky

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