It was around 8:30 a.m. when I awoke to the gorgeous environment of a fraternity house in Cincinnati, Ohio. After a four-hour drive the night before, I was a bit groggy, but nevertheless excited, as I knew the job I had ahead of me — representing the blue and gold where it was evidently unwelcome.
In a new episode of a recently-historic rivalry, the Panthers marched into Cincy for the 14th edition of the River City Rivalry after a devastating 27-21 loss at home the year prior. Although the rivalry’s beef has calmed down since the two teams departed from the Big East conference, the game still reeked of hatred.
This game was no different. After tailgating, my friends and I walked to Cincinnati’s on-campus stadium — a luxury Oaklanders are not privy to, and one that I am extremely jealous of. Along the way, we enjoyed our stroll through fraternity row, reading signs that said “Eat s— Pitt,” “Hawk tuah s-Pitt on that thing” and other renditions of vulgar, yet clever, remarks. I was quite surprised at how well the students from Cincy could spell considering the school’s reputation.
After walking through campus, I took my seat in the upper levels of Nippert Stadium. Surrounding my friends and me were older folks and families, expected outside the student section. Unexpected was the reception to our out-of-town presence. This flock of Cincinnati fans was very nice and extremely hospitable. The Bearcat supporters shared restaurant recommendations, places to go and stories accompanied with laughs. All in all, I was having a great time in our section. We were given free food, drinks and even a chili dog, after being notified of its traditional spot in Cincinnati cuisine.
For the first half of the game, everyone was very social, letting us hear friendly chirps and banter while the home team jumped out to a 24-6 lead after two painful quarters.
During the break in the action, we were lucky enough to converse with more fans, talking about our respective schools, campuses and cities. We took pictures, laughed and eagerly awaited an optimistic ending of a game that had not been in our favor thus far.
At this point, our group of about 10 had dwindled down to three brave souls, and we would not hear the end of it. We were told how we had earned the respect of the fans near us, although our friends had lost it.
Anyway, against all odds, Pitt started flashing signs of life in another quarter where the Bearcats — and I still have no idea what a bearcat is — outscored the Panthers. I was uneasy, yet knew there was still a lot of football to play.
The fourth quarter started, and as the Panthers forged a comeback, the chirps got quieter, socializing diminished … and shirts came off.
I was confused at first too, but as the Bearcats started to let their lead slip away, the loyal fans repping the big “C” logo started to undress and waive their shirts in the air, presumably to help rally their team.
Naturally, I joined them. As I waved my shirt in the air and screamed like a maniac, a Pitt win seemed closer and closer. They scored and scored again, and my voice was on its last life. It was absolutely bananas, and I was totally living for it.
In a mix of excitement and trying my hardest not to turn into a completely obnoxious a-hole, I returned the lovely discourse I had heard the three quarters before.
With seconds left, a Panthers team that had marched all the way back from the hole they dug themselves was lined up for a game-winning kick. It was as if everything was in slow motion. As the two of my friends and I huddled up, on edge, we tracked the ball as it sailed through the air between the big, yellow uprights. Bang. I watched as life drained from all the fans around me. We screamed, hugged and cheered while in utter disbelief at the comeback we witnessed.
After a quick Cincy possession, time expired and we collected our congratulations, gave out our high fives and started heading out. As we walked towards the end of the aisle, a wild and — dare I assume — drunk Cincinnati fan ran up and punched me in the face, knocking me into my friend, his glasses falling off. I was in shock at what had just happened. As my other friend shoved him away, he ran off to the surrounding fans yelling at him. Everyone apologized for his behavior, making sure to let us know it was condemned. I assured those around us that I was completely fine, unscathed and that he punched like a — you know — Cincinnati fan.
After that quick hiccup, we left the stadium, cheering and hugging alongside other Pitt fans we met in the concourse on the way out. I could not contain the smile smacked on my face as I skipped out of the stadium where my favorite team had just completed an unpredictable comeback against a rival to preserve an undefeated record. The day served as a great memory and one that I will truly never forget.