The only problem with the Spartans winning the Rose Bowl is that Jan. 1 was the best day I, and many other MSU students, alumni and fans, will live this year. I guess it’s all downhill from here.

Mindless pessimism aside, if you’re reading this, the last time the Spartan football team
accomplished this much, you probably didn’t even know what a football was. Because you didn’t exist yet.

I sure didn’t. I wasn’t even a zygote when the Spartans won the 1988 Rose Bowl, and, at 24, I’m an elder in the college world.

I didn’t even really know how to handle myself after the win. Still don’t. Aren’t Spartan fans supposed to be lamenting what could have been at the turn of each new year rather than reveling in the glory of a Rose Bowl win? This is uncharted territory for about 99 percent of fans.

I was lucky enough to be at the game. I got to be on the field. The School of Journalism sent me to cover it, which meant I spent the majority of my New Year’s Day with a look of dumbfounded awe on my face; my jaw slacked open and eyes aglow while I thought ‘how the %@ am I actually here right now?’

What’s funny is that most everyone had an identical look on their face. Especially after the game ended. People simply couldn’t believe it.

As I headed out of the Rose Bowl about two hours after Andrew Maxwell took the final snap of the Spartans season, there still were MSU fans hanging outside the gates. Strangers were hugging strangers. The ‘Go Green, Go White’ chants that had been echoing through the streets for days weren’t quite as constant as before the game, but they still were popping up. Before I left, I stopped to talk to one gentleman, a 37-year-old father of two, who wanted me to take a picture with his camera from inside, so the metal bars of the gates wouldn’t obscure the illuminated script ‘Rose Bowl’ sign that pops even more against the night sky.

His name was Ryan, and his eyes were wells. At first, the 1998 MSU graduate didn’t want to admit that he was crying, even though it wasn’t much of a secret. But after a few minutes of chatting in the bars on the south end of the most famous college football stadium in America, he opened up.

“I’m sorry I’m crying,” he said, and then paused for a handful of seconds.
“This is just a dream come true.”

He told me about how impossible this all seemed. How after watching the South Florida game in September, he’d have been happy with an eight-win season. How another Buffalo Wild Wings Bowl seemed a lot more likely than a Rose Bowl appearance, let alone a Rose Bowl win. 

But, against his (and just about everyone else’s) expectations, here was Ryan, tears in his eyes after watching players from his favorite school dance under the confetti while he stood and celebrated alongside his brother, Kevin, and sister, Kelly, who were also Michigan State graduates all-too-familiar with previous years of ‘Sparty, no!’ athletic torture.

They had been flown to Pasadena by their parents (their mom is also a Spartan grad, but you saw that coming), who called immediately after MSU’s win in the Big Ten Championship game and ordered the trio to clear their post-Christmas schedule, because they knew how special the trip would be to each of them.

And it was. Ryan was crying. His sister was glowing. I didn’t get a chance to meet the third sibling, but I have a feeling I know the emotional state he was in.

I couldn’t have walked away from that interaction more delighted. It was the most encouraging, refreshing fifteen minutes I’ve ever spent with a pair of strangers. And as I strolled away with a smile large enough to let the world count each of my 28 teeth (it’d be 32 if not for that wisdom teeth surgery), searching for a cab to take me and my camera equipment back to my car, it hit me: this is what makes college sports such a phenomenon. It drums up emotions that you’d never expect grown adults to outwardly display, and gives brothers, sisters, families and friends an excuse to get together year after year. 

I can’t really find the right words to explain the way a game of college football can make an entire campus and community feel. There’s no real good way to put it. It just makes us feel…Some Type of Way.

Greg Monahan is a journalism graduate student. Reach him at monaha32@msu.edu.