Week 13: The Championship
I'm not going to sit here and tell you that the Pac-12 Championship was the deserving finale to an incredible Pac-12 season. It wasn't. No conference championship game is. All conference championships, especially the Pac-12, need fixing. There is absolutely no reason why the thrilling adventure that is a season in the Pac-12 should end with a ludicrous 6pm Friday kickoff in a half-full NFL stadium that is 60% luxury boxes.
On its face, the Pac-12 Championship looks a whole lot like a random December bowl game hosted at some sterile NFL stadium filled to the brim with shameless hawking of hokey Championship matchup gear and “oh too many” men in suits. (Seriously, who wears suits to a football game?) But what the naked eye can’t capture is the fans. This wasn’t “some game” to them. They didn’t drive 14 hours from Olympia and 19 hours from Aurora to return home with some collectible t-shirt. This wasn’t the cherry on top of a great season for these fans. This was two teams who spent the last decade unable to get out of the driveway, suddenly knocking on opportunity’s door.
Those fans made sure the sights most certainly didn't match the sounds in this one. From the acapella fight song renditions in the parking lot to the thundering pregame concourse to the fate-tempting "We Want 'Bama" chant to close the game, there was an unmistakable spirit surrounding this Championship game. After a grueling three months, 12 teams were trimmed to 2, and for both the fans who had rode out the tough sledding of the last decade and the fans had just hopped back aboard this season, Friday night in Santa Clara was set as their long-deserved coronation.
These fans showed up with a hungry, bleeding passion that overcame the corporate suckitude that goes along with an event like this and created a true and deserving championship atmosphere in Santa Clara.
After driving for an hour and 20 minutes from my apartment in San Francisco, I arrived at Levi’s Stadium, the home of the “San Francisco” 49ers. Or at least, I had made it to the vicinity of the stadium. I followed the signs for Pac-12 Championship game parking and somehow ended up in a business park parking lot that cost $40. Thinking I must have accidentally ended up in some VIP section, I asked the parking attendant if all the lots cost $40. “Nope, just this one,” he said with a straight face, “the other lots are $55.” For the record, my ticket to the game was $20 for a pretty awesome seat.
After enjoying my walk through the business park, I arrived to find the more expensive lots closer to the stadium sparsely, but heartily populated with purple vans, black and gold balloons, and lots of fold out tables filled with solo cups, handles of whiskey, and in an apparent ode to the locally-based Pac-12 team, even the occasional decanted bottle of cabernet.
As I walked from one lot to another, I was struck by one of the most hilarious consequences of the 6pm Friday start. On no less than 3 occasions, I walked by fans talking on their phones with a serious look on their face as they told their bosses, partners, and clients “important” things like “If we can’t get a partial assignment this deal is not going through” or “if they want a follow-on investment, that better be cleaned up by Monday.” What made these eavesdropped phonecalls memorable was the fact that they usually were occurring about 10 feet away from the tailgate with one hand pinning the phone to their ear, while the other hand was clenching a tall boy of Bud Light.
Since the game was at a neutral-site where neither team had ever played before, it wasn’t as if fans could have their typical tailgate set-up. There were definitely a few crews who went all out for the occasion, who had rounded up the whole gang to fly down, and rented all the tailgating necessities to bring a piece of their Seattle or Boulder traditions with them to Santa Clara, but the overwhelming majority of fans seemed to end up at their respective school-sponsored pregame parties.
Both of these school-sponsored parties were actually bumping, glee-filled affairs with fun for all generations. The only hang-up was the apparent underestimation by both schools’ alumni associations on how many fans they were going to have actually show up.
As I joined the football field-long line of Huskies yearning to get into David's, some random restaurant that is quite possibly the biggest winner of the 49ers decision to build a stadium in the middle of the Silicon Valley business park, there was at least an equal amount of nervous energy as there was supreme confidence. These Husky fans were feeling the weight of the moment. It's amazing how fast things can change in college football. Last year, the Huskies needed to win the Apple Cup just to be eligible to go to something called the Heart of Dallas Bowl. Fast forward 12 months, and with one more victory, the Huskies would be one of just 4 teams left standing to play for a national championship. The Huskies fans seemed exceedingly aware of this fact. Every conversation included reference to how incredible this season has been, but oh, how badly they needed to win this one in Santa Clara.
On the other side of the denim stadium, Buffs' fans shared none of the nervous energy that permeated the Purple and Gold masses. After being picked to finish dead last in the Pac-12 South in the preseason Pac-12 media poll, Ralphie's Army of Buffs fans knew they were playing with house money and weren't going to waste a second of the celebration concerned about what the outcome might mean for their postseason destination.
While the turnout for the game was about 60/40 in favor of Washington, Buffs' fans made sure that despite this disparity in attendance, that the Buffs' would still win the total alcohol consumption battle. Apparently, one of the great CU pregame traditions is to walk around with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a 2-liter of coke in the other, aggressively pass it to anyone else you see wearing black and gold, wildly cheer them on while they take a swig of each, give a high five and a "Go Buffs," and then move on with an eye for the next shimmer of black and gold until the bottle is gone. This is all to say, the Buffs party was rocking. Right as I reached the end of TSA-style line required to enter the Buffs party, one of the organizers made an announcement, “Sorry, the food trucks are just about out of food, but we already made a call in for extra beer.”
The packed corral of Buffs fans was nothing but smiles as AD Rick George, who 3 years ago predicted the Buffs would be playing for a Pac-12 title in 2016, got on the mic and declared the game "one of the biggest in CU history" before leading the crowd in the fight song and clarifying to the future Buffs in the crowd that the fight song ends "Rough em up, Rough em up, Go CU!" (I guess R's and F's must sound similar when pronounced with a drunken Coloradan accent).
By the time kickoff rolled around, Buffs fans were, in the words of Coach MacIntyre, "ready for the fight." Despite being outnumbered, the Buffs fans were ready to make some noise. Buffs fans had waited a long, long time to play in a game of this magnitude and they were going to be loud enough to let the whole west coast know they were there for their squad.
For an impartial fan, the best part of the Championship game last Friday was the concourse in the 20 minutes before kickoff. There was pure, unfiltered passion bouncing off the walls. As soon as one chant of “Go Huskies” ended, another Washington fan would feel compelled to ask “Whose house?” this game was being played at, to which the entire citizenry of purple fans would reply “Dawgs House” on repeat again and again, until there would be a millisecond of silence at which point the “Go… Buffs!” chant would begin to echo down the hall, which in turn would only incite the Washington faithful to ramp up the volume on their next round of barks and cheers. Similarly dressed strangers were high-fiving, toasting, and saying things to one another like "see you in the playoff!" For 20 minutes, there wasn't a break long enough to finish off a thought in your own head. As soon as one chant ended, another would begin. Gooooooo Huskies! Gooooooooooo Buffs! Who’s house? DAWGS HOUSE!!!
The Game
I think its safe to say that the game changed on one play. After a back-and-forth first half that saw both teams squander some opportunities, the Huskies headed in at the break with a 14-7 lead. Then, after a halftime which included some kid winning full-tuition from Dr. Pepper by repeatedly throwing a football underhand and then giving a victory speech as if he had just won the gold medal in the decathalon and a jumbotron marriage proposal where the girl waited so uncomfortably long before saying yes that the video coordinator must have been milliseconds away from moving to camera 2, the Buffs were getting the ball to start the second half.
As the Buffs offense took the field, their senior QB and face of the program for the past 4 years, Sefo Liufau, who had been knocked out of the game in the first half trotted out with his squad to retake the reigns. Upon recognition of this, the portion of Levi's rocking black and gold exploded in excitement. What a story this would be, the senior QB of the fairy tale team comes back from injury to play the second half and lead his team to glory. Then Sefo took the snap... and threw to an open receiver, but the ball wasn't perfectly placed, the receiver tipped it into the air, and the Washington secondary picked it off and returned it to the house for a pick-six. And all of a sudden, the Purple portion of the crowd was going crazy as the momentum swung permanently back on their side.
The game was all Washington for the final 30 minutes after that, and when the clock showed nothing but zeroes, Let Purple Reign Again moved from being a marketing slogan to a chapter in the history books.
We'll be back next week with an end-of-season wrap-up, including awards, untold stories, and how to fix the Conference Championship. Thanks for following along on the journey.
