Vanderbilt Commodores beat Tennessee Volunteers our state shirt

The air in Nashville always crackles with a particular energy come late fall, you know? It’s the scent of fallen leaves mixed with the anticipation of a heated rivalry. This year, it was even more pronounced. The annual clash between the Vanderbilt Commodores beat Tennessee Volunteers our state shirt game had that extra layer of significance, like the stakes had been raised somehow. My friend Sarah, a die-hard Vols fan, kept texting me daily leading up to the game, sending those little mocking emojis, you know the ones. I just grinned, secretly feeling a flicker of… well, hope. We hadn’t had a win over the Vols in, frankly, ages. Decades, maybe? It felt like a lifetime ago that I watched the game with my grandfather.

I’d gone to Vanderbilt for undergrad, so I’ve always felt a deep, silly, loyalty to the Commodores, even if I was never the most rabid fan. But, it’s different when you’re watching the game at home, the tension building, the game on the television screen. It’s especially different when your friends and family are split, like ours always were, and the bragging rights for the next year were on the line. I swear, the build-up was exhausting. That weekend, I just needed some normalcy, but every conversation seemed to circle back to the game.

The day itself, the stadium was electric. The crowd buzzed, a kaleidoscope of gold and orange, of black and gold. You could practically taste the rivalry hanging in the air. I spotted Sarah in the crowd, her bright orange shirt practically glowing. We exchanged a brief, competitive look. I remember thinking, this is going to be a long afternoon no matter what the score. But deep down, I was still holding out for some sort of miracle. My ass just wasn’t ready to get stomped on like last year.