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The neighborhoods around the stadium were on the rougher side, so Fritz made a run for sandwiches while I took everyone to the Exposition Park Rose Gardens. It looked like a lot of people had the same idea, and for good reason. It was a beautiful afternoon, and I couldn’t think of anywhere else you could see so many varieties of roses. I’m not big on formal gardens, but this was nice. Fritz found us with the food, and we all took a break sitting around the humongous fountain in the center of the park.
“What do you think so far?” Mom asked.
“I’ve always thought that USC might be a good place to go, especially if I wanted to focus on acting. As far as football goes, there’s a clear path to playing time. Last year, Ridge played behind Cody Kessler, who was drafted in the third round. He’ll probably play this year and next and then enter the draft early. That would set things up for me playing right away.
“USC is one of those schools that seem to get quarterbacks to the NFL. Their alumni include Carson Palmer, Matt Leinart, John Booty, Mark Sanchez, Aaron Corp, Matt Barkley, and finally, Cody Kessler,” I ticked off.
“I believe that’s every quarterback that’s played in a game at USC, except a couple of spot starters, since you’ve been born,” Dad said, surprising me with his knowledge.
You have to understand, my parents were never really sports nuts and hadn’t followed football until I began to play. Dad’s focus was more on golf. Yes, we followed the Cubs and Bears, but that was just a way of killing time, for them at least. Dad recognizing that almost every starting quarterback who’d played for USC had at least had a cup of coffee in the NFL showed that he had done his homework.
None of the other schools I was looking at had USC’s track record in that regard.
“Back to your mom’s question. What do you think?” Wolf asked.
“I wanted you guys to see it for yourselves. I would be comfortable picking USC. But I would also be fine with Michigan. They’ve shown us a ton of love. Clemson surprised me. I like what they’re doing there, and I expect the small-town atmosphere would be comfortable for us. I’d hate to decide before we visit Alabama, though. You might recall I’ve been there. I think you’ll like it,” I said.
“Yes, I remember that you’ve been to Alabama for camp,” Tim said. “If it were just up to you, where would you pick?”
I pondered that question for a moment. Where I would probably go was Ohio State, but OSU didn’t want all of us. I had a feeling that would be the same at Alabama. For me, that really left USC and Michigan. While I would love to go to USC, Michigan was closer for my family to come for games, which was important to me.
“Michigan,” I announced.
Both Tim and Wolf seemed relieved. I would have to get them alone and talk with them about it. Stating my preference now, in early October, was no guarantee as to who I would pick come February, on signing day.
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USC played their home games in The Grand Old Lady, otherwise known as the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum, which could hold up to 93,000 fans. It was a gorgeous stadium built in the mid-1920s. The moms had decided we didn’t need to experience tailgating, aka the dads drinking beer, so we walked inside to watch the band’s pregame show. I was glad that we did because we were able to see the USC Trojan lead the marching band. This was one of the great traditions in college football. We watched him march out to the center of the field, kneel, and plunge his sword into the turf.
As we watched the band, the stadium slowly began to fill. Other recruits joined us, along with people associated with the university. Wolf, Tim, and I tried to be sly while we glanced around because there were a bunch of Southern California babes seated just behind us. It was almost like Sports Illustrated had dropped off their swimsuit models for the game.
“What are you doing?” my mom asked me.
WTF! Did she just out me?
“Taking in the scenery. This is one of the iconic football stadiums in the country,” I said piously.
Both Tim and Wolf held back laughs when Brook gave me the ‘death stare.’
“I love you,” I told her as I batted my eyes.
“A boy can look,” Wolf offered.
I was with him on that. That was until the girls in question recognized me and turned out to be fans! I had a public image to uphold, so I had to sign autographs … right? Anyway, that’s my story, and I was sticking to it. It didn’t help that the girls started to flirt with all the recruits when they found out we were here to check out the university. One buxom blonde decided it was her mission in life to lure me to USC. That was until Brook used a Cassidy move and jabbed me under my arm in one of my pressure points. Damn, that hurt.
“Are you about done flirting?”
“But they’re fans,” I tried.
From the look I got, she didn’t buy it. I just gave her a mischievous grin and planted a big kiss on her. Even my personal recruiter got the message that I was taken. Apparently, my mom had rubbed off on Brook. She got the bright idea that the recruits and the girls should all have their picture taken together. I was the only one smart enough to decline. It took her all of two seconds to post it on her social media accounts. It took a full two minutes for Wolf and Tim’s phones to begin to ring. Dumbasses.
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Something that really appealed to me about USC was they had a ton of talented pass-catchers either on the roster or coming via recruiting. What I didn’t like was they seemed to shoot themselves in the foot every chance they got. USC turned the football over four times in this game. After the game, if I’d just seen that stat alone, I would have said they lost the ball game by a wide margin.
Early on, Ridge looked rusty. His sitting out most of last year, because they had a senior who played well enough to be taken in the third round of the NFL draft, had me nervous. If Ridge didn’t look good, what would I look like if I was busy making movies instead of learning the offense next season?
USC took an early 14–0 lead into halftime. I’m sure everyone thought they had the game in hand. Certainly, I did, which was why I spent time checking out their cheerleaders. I’ve seen some nice-looking women at various campuses, but USC was in a league of their own. I’d heard somewhere that UNLV might be even better. If my decision was based on the college girls, I was all-in with USC.
Colorado made halftime adjustments, and early in the fourth quarter had tied the game at 14–14. The USC fans started to get nervous. With about ten minutes left in the fourth quarter, USC put together a six-play seventy-yard drive that ended with a seven-yard touchdown pass to Bill. It was his second touchdown of the game. Our contingent was on our feet, cheering for our ex and possibly future teammate.
Colorado took the ball and drove it down the field. When they were just outside the red zone, it looked like the game might go into overtime. With four minutes left, they ended up having to kick a field goal to bring them closer with a 21–17 score. That’s where it ended. USC had defeated Colorado eleven straight and was now a .500 team.
On the way out of the stadium, I overheard fans joke that both Notre Dame and UCLA had lost close games today. The riddle was, ‘What is the perfect day?’ Answer: ‘When USC wins, and both Notre Dame and UCLA lose.’ I love football rivalries.
That would make my uncle happy. For some reason, he despised Notre Dame. I suspect it was because many of the old guys in the coffee klatch were Notre Dame fans. They did talk some smack about how good the Golden Domers were. I was sure that he was down there each morning to remind them that the Irish had started to pile up the losses. After this game, they were only 2–4.
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Fritz had arranged to pick us up a block from the stadium parking lots. As I was walking down the street, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a pretty girl approaching me.