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Roses: So Close, Yet So Far Away
As the fourth quarter began in the Michigan State vs. Wisconsin game in Indianapolis, Spartans had their confidence and heads held high… maybe a little too high. After three straight quarters of blissful Spartan victory and obnoxious cheering on our part, I’d have to say that there were hardly any feelings of anxiety in my stomach. As I gazed around the gigantic indoor stadium as our Spartans battled it out on the field, I was proud of the amount of MSU fans who had made the journey out to Indy for the big game which began at 8 o’clock sharp—plenty of time for a seven-hour pregame at the local MSU declared bars. And in a flash—my stomach churned as the score mounted to a devastatingly close score, with the Spartans barely keeping their once substantial lead. Feelings of anger and frustration wafted throughout the Spartan crowd instantly, as our promise of victory became more and more challenged. As the game took a turn for the worst and the Spartan student section leaders even seemed to breathe a sigh of defeat, Spartan fans began draining out of the stadium like water in a bathtub, merely because they couldn’t bear the Wisconsin celebration that inevitably awaited them. As the time ran out, and the Spartans were down by only a few painstaking points, my family and I sat in the stadium until there were only a few Spartans left— and then the celebratory Wisconsin fireworks shot off in a taunting vengeance. As we all sat in silence, some bearing tears of a stinging loss, we all couldn’t help but repeat “but we had the game!” in our heads over and over again. When the Wisconsin celebration became too much and we all decided to finally leave the stadium, we all became numb to the deafening sounds of victory and happiness around us as we ventured out into the Indianapolis night. Although the mere sight of the color red was enough to send me through the roof and into a depression after the game, spotting an MSU fan that was feeling the same way we all were was like a salvation. We began to flock with other Spartans whom we had never met as we made our trek back to the parking garage, merely because of the color on their backs and the state they had come from. Although the color red inflamed the city and all of our tempers, all of the Spartans who had been loyal enough to their team to travel to Indiana still stuck together, even in times of sadness and devastation. Yes, we may not have been able to pop bottles of champagne and take millions of pictures with roses for three hours after the game, but we all stuck together as Spartans, win or lose. Even though nursing a heart wrenching loss, I can honestly say that in Indianapolis, I had never felt more proud to be a Spartan. Kelsey is a junior studying professional writing. You may contact her at clarkk43@msu.edu.
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