Last Saturday, Julie and I were hoping that the GSU road playoff game would be televised. Unfortunately, that was not the case, but it would be broadcast on radio. It's not the same as being there, but close enough for avid fans.
       Julie came running into the house. "There is a rumor, a hint, an undercurrent of hope that somewhere, in the back of a dusty and dark well-hidden, off-campus location, the game will be shown on television!" We had heard of such shenanigans (that's college talk for high-spirited mischievous activity) but the higher ups dismissed such goings on as, "Conversation by those who just don't understand refined and puritan moral-code students like ours."
       Sworn to secrecy, Julie and I and two friends, whom I will identify as the Freckles, met at the back door of a secluded hideaway called "Locos." We knocked three times, as instructed, and waited until a small slot in the door opened and a voice asked, "Why are you at the back door?" I answered, "We were told by a friend that here is the only game in town."   Then I whispered the password, "One more time!" The mysterious voice replied, "Yeah. Right. Go to the front door, walk in, stand at the desk and a waitress will seat you. I swear, this place..."
       When we were seated and my eyes adjusted to the light provided by softly lit signs written in ancient Nordic runes such as DosXX and Amberbach, I could make out the silhouettes of hundreds of folks all dressed in blue sitting around tables piled high with exotic foods and flagons of mead. A pretty young miss dressed in a flowing skirt and a saucy smile asked, "And what for you finely dressed folks out on the town who crave the less-than-refined back streets reserved for students who always study and only come here on rare occasions and after exams?" Just so she'd know that we were on the up and up I replied, "Bangers and mash all around." By the look she gave, I could tell that she was properly impressed.
       At exactly 1:30 p.m., every eye focused on the back wall where a huge television screen came to life and began to pan a football field and an announcer who welcomed us to the playoff game between "The powerful and overwhelming favorite William and Mary and some unknown and forgotten Georgia Southern team from a little town in Georgia, whom we should defeat handily!"
       A well-known chant began softly in our room. "Georgia ... Southern, Georgia ... Southern, Georgia ... Southern." Soon that chant grew to such a level that the building began to shake, the energy powerful and the enthusiasm over the top. Our team stood on the field, their armor blazing in the light, their shields raised high and they yelled with one voice, "Bring it on!"
       When the dust settled, the students in that room sang the GSU fight song, cheered as one and left Locos to drive back to their rooms to study for the next exam. The Georgia Southern team had won as champions do. They never quit, gave all they had and made us proud.
       I, for one, want to thank Locos, manager Jim Lanier and the courteous staff for the fantastic food, great surroundings and a special moment in time.
       These students were the kind of fans and young people that any university would be proud to claim.
       "Bring it on, Big Blue! Bring it on!"