Cyclones, people will come Cyclones. They'll come to Ames for reasons they can't even fathom. They'll turn up University Boulevard not knowing for sure why they're doing it. They'll arrive at the gate as innocent as children, longing for the past. Of course, we won't mind if you look around,
JP will say. It's only $400 per season ticket. They'll pass over the money without even thinking about it: for it is money they have and peace they lack. And they'll walk out into the stadium; sit in shirtsleeves on a perfect afternoon. They'll find they have reserved seats somewhere along one of the sidelines, where they sat when they were children and cheered their heroes. And they'll watch the game and it'll be as if they dipped themselves in magic waters. The memories will be so thick they'll have to brush them away from their faces. People will come Cyclones. The one constant through all the years, Cyclones, has been football. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again. But football has marked the time. This field, this game: it's a part of our past, Cyclones. It reminds of us of all that once was good and it could be again. Oh... people will come Cyclones. People will most definitely come.
Slightly plagiarized. No point to this post, except
JP has filled every seat so far.
