By Maxwell Griffin’26
Silence. The bus that was taking the most notorious student section in Chicago somewhere they haven’t been in 4 decades was silent. The weight this game carried was immeasurable. Three years of a losing team, being the butt of the joke on the South Side – this game made up for all of that. The Crazies were dead to the world.
As we stepped off the bus in DeKalb and walked through the bitter cold to the stadium, the mood shifted. The quiet gradually gave out to cheers as we sprinted up the ramp to the student section. When we reached the top, the frigid air again hit our faces. The game had already started, and from the beginning we knew it was already over.
Deafening. On every play, the Crusaders beat back the Mustangs with no remorse. The Crazies only became more hyped every play. The sound of our voices after every incomplete pass Rita threw or tackled Rice made was deafening. The cold and snow that held on to the mind of every Crusader was relinquished by the warmth only victory could provide.
As the game ended, three years of emotion overcame us, we finally did it.
