Sure, I've cursed at our quarterbacks every freaking season for making bad calls, winning the first six games in a row and losing the rest. Year after year they instilled false hope into my little heart and crushed it...jerks. But year after year I took out my garnet Gameday dress and seven-layer-dip recipe and felt the student section shake in sync with "Sandstorm." I've cried over touchdowns, tripped over the stands, been vommed on by a drunk freshman, stood in the rain at the best game of my life (Kentucky, 2007) and walked across the State Fair grounds unable to speak because I left my voice in the third quarter.
But if you do this, and only do this when we win...you're a douchebag. You're a fairweather fan. You can go home.
Because loving a team when they win but abandoning your loyalty when they lose is about as fickle as dating two people at once. And sure, while MTV might make a truly awful reality show about you, I'll sit on my couch, judge you, and wonder why you have to ask your parents who should be your boyfriend.
See you in Atlanta, bitches.
