Widespread confusion over the powers of the Associated Students of Stanford University (ASSU) Financial Manager marked the 22nd meeting of the Undergraduate Senate on Tuesday night.
The Senate on Tuesday night declined to vote on a petition to fund The Stanford Daily’s printing costs for the 2019-20 academic year.
On the occasion of Senator Cory Booker’s presidential announcement, The Daily combed through its archives and discovered an intimate portrait of the former columnist’s personal development at Stanford.
Last Saturday, amidst intermittent rain and cloudy skies, The Daily Californian defeated The Stanford Daily in the Ink Bowl for the third consecutive year, claiming the trophy, the title, and the glory by a final score of 28-14.
I don’t remember what the final score was in last year’s Ink Bowl. The only thing I remember is that we lost.
It was a terrible, crushing experience, one that I hope to never encounter again. To fall to your mortal enemies, on your home turf, by such a decimating margin…it was the worst possible feeling. We limped off the field with our heads in our hands, knowing that we had failed.
I take the Big Game seriously.
I know Stanford gets a lot of commentary (or perhaps not – perhaps it’s just us that likes to think that we get that much attention) about how we’re so extra when it comes to the Big Game, but I think that’s just an example of how we take school spirit seriously. I appreciate the students who camp out in White Plaza days leading up to the game. I appreciate the fountains turning red. I appreciate our Band – I appreciate them more if they don’t walk on the field before the game is over (but they only did this once (I think?), so let us forgive them).
I joined the Daily in the fall of 2016 as a freshman, originally slated to write a bi-weekly column for the Opinions section. Given the political environment at the time, I thought I’d steer clear of election commentary and focus on what I loved talking about most: sports. It seemed a natural choice for me; growing up, my friends and I spent many more hours than we could ever possibly count debating the ins and outs of the various sports leagues, bouncing hot takes off of each other and waiting to see which silly predictions might come true. And upon coming to college, I figured it was time to take the opportunity to actually publish some of my thoughts.
My phone’s default alarm setting, a muffled trill under my pillow, sounds particularly irritating at 4:30 in the morning. I quickly shut it off, mumbling a quick prayer that my roommate hasn’t been similarly jolted awake in the other half of our two-room double. In the next few minutes I stumble out of bed, clumsily…