Swaying on a seat in front of me, somewhere between puking and crying, a girl yelled "Courtney, Courtney, Courtney" probably 37 times before Courtney, some three seats away, responded. The girl unzipped her North Face coat to reveal a T-shirt that said Old Navy. They both laughed so hard they fell over.
Then, all of a sudden, it was the fourth quarter. A CU defender picked off a CSU pass and ran it back for a touchdown while the stadium roared. CSU, led by the impressively last-named Justin Holland, fought back but wound up losing the game after an inexplicably clueless bout of coaching by Sonny Lubick. The Buff players rushed the field. The yellow-jacketed security guards did their best to look daunting, but there was no question in anyone's mind that the Buffs fans were going on the field, too. I nervously anticipated what would surely turn into a nightmare mob scene of students trampling one another in senseless celebration.
What I saw instead was truly amazing.
The students now exhibited a calmness that was almost frightening, given everything else I'd seen all day, as row after row of undergrads jumped over the edge of the stands and ran out onto the field. Those behind them did not push or shove; they merely awaited their turn before expertly leaping over like patient, happy lemmings. When it came time to honor their gridiron heroes, the CU fans showed remarkable poise, class and calm.
I watched one CU student wait for his turn. Shirtless and excited, he turned around to look at the students behind him who were waiting for the same opportunity. His gaze lifted to those higher up in the section, people like my friends and I, who were just watching the action. The look on his face was unmistakable.
"Hey, you fucking faggots!" it said. "Let's get the fucking move on!"