Every now and then, when my USC friends drop me a line, through
the convoluted grammar and spelling I figure out that they’re
still talking about their football championship.
Just the other day, USC golfer Nico Bollini e-mailed me,
“Hey, write a story on how dominant USC football is and how
this is our city. ‘SC football rules! LOL, ttyl ;)”
Nico, two points: 1) your e-mails read like a 12-year-old
Diamond Bar girl’s blog. 2) You’re still on football?
Let it go, bro.
Three out of the last four years I’ve been No. 1 in both
the coaches and the Associated Press poll for being dope, and
besides the occasional public appearance, I keep a low profile
about the whole affair.
Championships last for all of one season, and then what?
If you’re at ‘SC, you go to Jack in the Box.
Over at UCLA we have something your $30,000-a-year tuition
can’t buy: an Olive Garden. I mean money could buy it, but it
can’t, if you know what I mean.
See, you could make a hundred million thousand pounds of pasta
at USC and never in a thousand lifetimes finish it, but even then
it wouldn’t be the Olive Garden Never Ending Pasta Bowl. It
would merely be a hundred-million-thousand-pound-FINITE pasta
bowl.
And I haven’t even mentioned the UNLIMITED breadsticks and
salad yet, son.
Though I might seem presumptuous, keep in mind that I’m in
a position to make an educated opinion, as I know both the
worthwhile people at USC and at UCLA.
Trojans are cool and all, but it’s not like they’re
Steven Seagal or nothing. They just can’t make up for
USC’s general deficiencies.
Just the other day some of my Trojan chums were throwing a party
at scenic Bell Gardens. (The campus is ever so lovely this time of
year ““ it’s chain-link fence season.)
I just never quite fit in with the USC crowd. I can only say so
much about J. Crew and Banana Republic.
The following is more or less a transcript of a conversation I
had with a sweet little Trojan philly over some natty ice as I
slang game her way.
Me: “So yeah, maybe if I’d gotten into the film
school I would have gone to ‘SC but yada yada yada. … You
know.”
Lady Trojan: “Oh that sucks. So you’re doing film at
UCLA?”
Me: “No, I’m a linguistics and philosophy
major.”
Lady Trojan: “Oh. (Pause) That must be
interesting?”
Me: “(Awkward cough) No, not really.”
Lady Trojan: “Oh. (Pause) So what house are you
in?”
This whimsical anecdote is emblematic of the larger cultural
dissonance between USC and UCLA. I haven’t been asked what
house I’m in at a UCLA party since at least sophomore year.
We’re really deep and stuff.
At UCLA parties, we dissect Kierkegaard.
There was a book once at a USC party. But campus police came by
and took it away so things got back to normal.
So in conclusion, irrespective of tonight’s basketball
result, don’t forget who the real winners are. They’ll
be supping on bountiful fettucini alfredo.
Share whimsical, emblematic anecdotes with Leano at
[email protected].