Volume 95, Issue 65

Tuesday, January 29, 2002
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Tory boy makes bid for USC glory

Froshies complain of sunburn epidemic

"Hot for Teacher" trial continues

The View, but educational

Student sit-in craze sweeping the province

Biker bunkers raise fears

Gazette rules!!!

Gazette rules!!!

Some legends are born. Some created through myth and fairy tale. But the greatest legends are made on the muddy football fields of our childhood dreams.

January 27, 2002 – a date that shall be whispered through the generations for centuries to come.

Journalists and politicians have long done battle in the hallways and press conferences of this world.

But, this past Sunday, Western's truth-seeking journos and ass-kissing politicos met on the football field – a war zone of mud and grass, trees and sand.

Rhetoric, empty promises and self-congratulation would not save the USC kids this day.

After more than an hour of unbridled violence, the battle was knotted 21-21 – the next score would mean victory.

As tens of thousands of onlookers held their collective breath, a humble journalist strode to the line of scrimmage and, holding the precious pigskin in his hands, took the helm.

Fading back, he saw a red streak of hair 80 yards down field. Sensing a glimmer of light between the receiver and his hapless defender, our modest hero released a glorious spiral of hope towards the end zone.

The heavens must surely have been smiling upon our Gazette heroes this day, for that red-headed Swede – raised in the land of snow, ice and hot blondes – caught that tight spiral like a woman catching her flying baby who had been thrown into the air much like a football by a guy who throws footballs, let's call him a quarterback.

As our little Viking fell into the end zone, a great cheer rose up and his comrades stormed the field – victors and champions of all that is pure and good and wholesome and holy and such.

Blood streamed from the knee of our Swedish friend, mixing with the mud of a field worn brown by the struggles of war.

But our hero felt no pain – for the tears of joy can wash away any blood stain, heal all wounds and elevate even the humblest of hearts.

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Copyright The Gazette 2001