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Sent From My iPhone: Open up Your Hate, Stanford, and Let It Flow Into Me

Alright, fellow students and Stanford sports fans, it’s time to get with the program. We have the sixth-ranked team in the country, and I don’t see any of you kids acting like it. Sure, you’ve been showing up and cheering loudly at football games, but that’s not what makes Stanford fans respected, that’s not what gets us BCS at-large bids (for serious, guys, the Alamo Bowl sucks). If you people ever want to become a premiere college football program and stay that way, you’re gonna have to start trafficking heavily in the only emotion that anyone in college football respects: hatred. The clean distilled kind you find at Oregon, Ohio State and anywhere in the SEC.

You may think that you’ve got nothing to hate because you’re in the best place in the world or because it’s stupid to hate someone just because you go to a different school. Wrong on both accounts. Shake off that trepidation that makes you say “Stanford” with a note of shame in it and replace it with all the privileged entitlement you can muster, because no matter if you’re a first-generation transgender disabled blacktino or if your parents have a building named after them, you got to rep Stanford by treating the rest of the college football world like it just dinged your yacht and tracked its dirty-ass shoes across your Oriental rug and onto your Italian leather sofa before you promptly booted its ass out of your house. For six days out of the week, please keep being that awesome, humble, altruistic person you are. On Saturdays, though, it’s time to dust off that theory of Social Darwinism and live it to its unabashed fullest because really now, which other top-25 team has a $15 billion endowment, an 8 percent acceptance rate, two current Supreme Court justices and knows how to win without making a mockery out of its admissions department?

Don’t listen to any Daily sports columnists or members of the athletic department who tell you to treat the other team and its fans with respect and class. College football is our nation’s weekly outlet for moral depravity. You hate teams because arbitrary hatred is fun, and that’s also why we publicly celebrate events that would now be termed grand theft and probably a Fundamental Standard violation (i.e. stealing the Axe). Anyone that claims that college athletics is still about sportsmanship is dumber than the homeless man’s notion that he doesn’t have to work for a living (See? See how fun this can be?).

Which brings me to this upcoming (Big) Game. You need to replace that erudite passivity with some Tea Party-level activism, because Kal is not just your typical welfare recipient worthy of hatred (that’s Washington State); Kal is the welfare queen with eight kids by nine different fathers, two Cadillac payments and an unashamed crack problem. They play in a rat-infested dump-heap until next season when they’re forced into a baseball stadium. They are the Cub Scouts as a football team, with a pedophilic bear as a mascot and a student-run band that goes out of its way to reinforce every band geek stereotype imaginable. Their athletics department is so horribly mismanaged that they no longer have a baseball or gymnastics team. They have not been to the Rose Bowl in over 50 years; their last attempt was foiled by a Texas PR campaign. In fact, the proudest moment in the entire history of Kal is a freak play that prevented them from having a losing season. The way they intimidate is to tell people to “Take off that reeeeed shirt.” Their fans’ lives are as miserable as any you’ll find in the Big Ten but they still can’t sell out their stadium. They got no spine, no smarts, no teeth and no tradition. They’re not really a football program; they’re a bunch of overgrown high-schoolers that got uppity while we were busy handling our Buddy Teevens and Walt Harris issues. God willing, Andrew Luck, the Great Red Hope, will quiet the weenies down and remind them of their place as our future secretaries. I sure would not like to have to go over there myself and teach them boys a lesson myself. Things might get out of hand.

You see that, kids? That’s the kind of hatred and entitlement you need to bring to California Memorial Stadium, Oregon State and all worthy opponents beyond. If you need help, I suggest a Four Loko and some Pocket Shots, but take notes because that’s the hatred that brings you Heismans, BCS at-large bids, a Jim Harbaugh that ain’t goin’ no-where and a long-deserved riot on University Avenue, or as I like to call it, real college football. It’s supposed to burn your soul just a little bit.

Spread the hate at [email protected]. Oh, and go Card, because Kal sucks.

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