7

I am from Alabama.

I am from Alabama, but I consider myself a Carolina Girl, save two very important points: Alabama Football, and barbeque sauce.

Up until this season, Crissie and I invaded Rhythm and Booze in our crimson hoodies and demanded at least one television. Then, Crissie moved to Tuscaloosa and this here Bama fan was left on her own to suffer through football season solo. Every other game has been watched from my couch, while I noisely scare those within earshot. Today, I decided to take my fun on over to Legends, where the LSU fans gather. (Because I'm tired of watching games alone, and because my football-loving friends are LSU types.)

I wore my father's Bama hoodie because I'm not going to do anything in this life quietly. I love my team, and I'm proud to support them, no matter how outnumbered I find myself. I arrived an hour and a half before kickoff, to secure a choice table. Within 10 minutes of my darkening their door, 2 fans had sent over rounds of whiskey as an ode to my brass balls, wearing said hoodie, despite such fierce opposition. There was taunting and high fiving, and much wishing one another a great game.

(I even complimented them on their considerable class, as compared to the Georgia fans. Two years ago, I found myself at THEIR bar. Why do I do this to myself?)

And the game was great. A bit slow on the start with a bit too much playing chicken for my taste. But then we found ourselves at the end of the second quarter and it was absolutely, GAME ON. I promised that Alabama plays its games in the second half. My team didn't let me down, or prove me wrong. And we won, but not until the final four minutes of play.

They turned on me. The same people that waltzed by our table each time we were down, full of cheers and jabs (or, bought me shots), refused to look me in the eye. I quickly put on my coat and tried my best to put on a brave face on their behalf. I made a quick exit, absolutely unwilling to win with anything less than utmost class and grace. It kills me that had they won, I would have proudly sported my crimson and white out that door while they continued the taunts and jeers. I was in the wrong place at the right time. Roll Tide.

I am from Alabama, and suddenly more proud now than ever. I was born into a family of Alabama Alumni who supported my choice to go elsewhere for undergrad. My baby brother will enroll next year, and I am proud to back him in his choice. I am an Alabama fan, and I will support my team, win or lose. (But I will certainly chant one hell of a Rammer Jammer when we win, even if only quietly to myself on the subway.) I am from Alabama, and it took me moving to New York, by way of North Carolina, to realize that I am lucky to call such a place home.