Sunday, November 11, 2012
An insistent melody broke the silence of the room. It wasn't particularly loud. Just loud enough to be unbearable.
"Turn that off..." a sleepy voice murmured from the other side of the room.
Missy Cooper, buried beneath the sheets of her bed, frowned without opening her eyes.
The sound continued.
"Missy... for God's sake, turn it off..." the girl in the other bed complained again, burying her head beneath the pillow.
Missy let out a barely audible groan and finally opened her eyes.
Bad idea.
The light slipping through the blinds went straight through her skull.
She closed her eyes again for a second, took a deep breath and, with obvious reluctance, turned toward the nightstand.
Her phone was vibrating beside an empty glass and a couple of things she didn't remember leaving there.
She slowly reached out, feeling around until she managed to grab it.
The screen was way too bright. She narrowed her eyes, tried to focus, and read:
Mom.
Missy's eyes snapped open. "Shit..." she muttered.
She sat up too quickly and immediately regretted it. A sharp pain stabbed through her head, and her mouth was dry.
'Damn hangover,' she thought.
She brought a hand to her face and took several breaths before clearing her throat.
"Ahem..."
Nothing. She still sounded terrible, so she tried again.
"Ahem, ahem..."
A little better. At least enough to pretend she'd been awake for a while.
She slid her finger across the screen and answered.
"Hi, Mom..." she said, her voice coming out considerably raspier than she'd expected.
[Melissa Cooper! I've been calling you for ten minutes. Do you know what day it is?] Mary Cooper said from the other end of the line.
Missy closed her eyes. There it was.
Sunday.
Of course. With her mother, the fact that it was Sunday was never a minor detail.
For the next several minutes, Missy had to improvise a fairly complicated defense.
She insisted that she'd simply been asleep, that her phone had been on silent, and that no, she had not gone to a party. She also had to listen to her mother's reminder about church, her studies, going to bed at reasonable hours, and the apparently ever-present danger of college turning her into an irredeemable sinner.
When the call finally ended several minutes later, she dropped the phone onto the nightstand and collapsed backward onto the mattress.
Her head sank into the pillow again.
'I survived...' she thought.
She had managed to keep her mother from suspecting that, after Texas A&M's historic victory over Alabama, she had gone out partying and ended up drunk.
Yes, she'd lied, but from her point of view, it had been practically unavoidable.
What had happened the day before hadn't been a normal victory.
Texas A&M had just walked into Tuscaloosa and defeated the number one team in the country, the reigning national champion, and the owner of a thirteen-game winning streak.
The 29-24 victory had shaken up the national championship race and firmly turned Johnny Manziel into one of the biggest stories of the season.
For a university playing its very first season as a member of the SEC after leaving the Big 12, the impact was even greater.
The move had raised all kinds of questions about how Texas A&M would adapt to a conference that had dominated college football for years. Now they had just defeated the greatest symbol of that dominance in its own stadium.
Missy had watched it all from College Station.
The game had started with her surrounded by friends and a crowd of students packed into one of the bars near campus. At first, there were cheers after every good play.
Then it became 20-0, and the place practically exploded.
When Alabama started coming back, the atmosphere changed completely. People stopped joking around. Some of them barely seemed to breathe. Every third down felt like it was deciding the entire season.
When the clock finally hit zero, it was absolute madness. There was no other word for it.
The celebration didn't end there.
Everyone knew the team would be returning that same night, and a considerable portion of College Station seemed to reach the exact same conclusion.
They had to welcome them back.
Missy ended up among the crowd waiting for the team's return, surrounded by students still wearing maroon shirts, some of them with their voices completely shot after hours of yelling.
When the players appeared, the noise surged again, and when Manziel showed up, one chant quickly became especially popular:
"Heisman! Heisman! Heisman!"
Missy had to make a conscious effort not to roll her eyes.
He had played spectacularly, and she felt just as proud as everyone else to have a player like that on their team.
But Missy had been following Andrew long before she ever arrived in College Station. Since his high school years, she had watched games and videos from his channel. She had also followed his arrival at UCLA, the comeback against Oregon, and practically every ridiculous statistic he had piled up during the season.
So hearing hundreds of people declare Johnny Manziel the Heisman winner right in front of her triggered a certain automatic resistance.
Very good. Top 3 in the Heisman race, sure. But there was only one favorite, and he played at UCLA.
The celebration didn't end with the welcome home, either.
It was College Station. On a Saturday night. After that game.
Her mother would have had to be extraordinarily naive to imagine that thousands of college students would simply return to their dorms, drink a glass of milk, and go to sleep.
Parties started popping up everywhere, and Missy, of course, didn't stay out of them.
It was one of those little contradictions in her life that she preferred not to analyze too deeply.
She loved watching Andrew's videos about training, routines, diets, discipline, and the obsessive way he explained and did everything.
She was athletic and competitive.
The problem was that her own discipline had certain inconsistencies. Particularly whenever music, friends, and alcohol were involved.
The night before had included all three.
At some point, a rumor began spreading about where part of the team was.
That was enough.
She and her friends ended up moving with another stream of students toward an even bigger party.
They couldn't get especially close. But from where Missy was standing, she could recognize several of the players.
Among them, inevitably, was Johnny Manziel.
People walking up to ask for pictures, girls trying to get his attention, teammates celebrating, and cups changing hands.
Manziel looked completely comfortable in the middle of all of it. That didn't surprise Missy much.
Johnny Football already had a certain reputation around campus.
He wasn't Collin Klein.
Klein projected almost the exact opposite image.
Deeply religious, married, reserved, polite, and with a much calmer, more family-oriented public persona.
Yes: married.
Missy had found that out while following the Heisman race. Klein had married a Kansas State student, and whenever he appeared in interviews or profiles, he gave off exactly that kind of image.
The good guy, the quiet leader, and the player every head coach probably wishes he had.
With Andrew, the public image was different from both Klein's and Manziel's.
There were pictures of him at parties, of course. In fact, there were even some with celebrities like Bieber and Selena Gomez.
He was probably the most famous college player in the country, lived in Los Angeles, and had already been famous before that.
It would have been strange if those pictures didn't exist.
But every time Missy saw one, Andrew had an irritating ability to look ridiculously photogenic and, on top of that, completely sober.
As if even at a party there were still some part of him operating under control.
Unlike Klein, Andrew's image also wasn't built around being especially proper or traditional.
People felt like they knew him extremely well.
He had spent practically his entire high school career in front of a camera.
His YouTube channel had become the biggest in the world during his high school years and, although it had eventually lost that number one spot, it was still among the most subscribed channels on the planet.
There were hours and hours of Andrew talking. Showing videos of routines, training, traveling with friends, gaming, joking around, and even massively viral videos involving pranks, sneaking into tournaments under a fake identity, transforming a subscriber's physique and then giving him ten thousand dollars as a reward...
That made his fame extend far beyond college football.
For millions of people, he wasn't simply UCLA's quarterback.
He was Andrew, the YouTube guy.
That was why the image that had formed around him was far more complete than the one surrounding almost any other college player.
In his videos, he was charismatic, relaxed, and approachable. He could go from explaining a strength routine with almost obsessive seriousness to making an incredibly elaborate prank video on his aunt, convincing her that her daughter was pregnant, then cracking up at the end when he saw her face.
Missy had changed parts of her diet because of Andrew's videos and followed routines he recommended.
She had even started paying more attention to rest and recovery, although that last part clearly wasn't working especially well in college.
It wasn't just an image created for the camera.
Missy had confirmed that personally when Andrew came to College Station for his visit before choosing where to commit.
He got off the plane and still went over to all the Texas fans who had come to welcome him, took pictures, signed things, and exchanged a few words with everyone with a genuinely good attitude.
Missy still had the picture from that day, along with the things she'd managed to get him to sign.
In a way, all of that made the contrast with the other version of Andrew even stranger.
The one that appeared when he stepped onto a football field.
Because Andrew Pritchett-Tucker hadn't simply been a great high school prospect.
He had ended up being considered the greatest high school player of all time.
Four years, not a single loss. Twelve titles out of twelve possible, and universities from all over the country fighting to secure his commitment.
The kind of expectations that would have crushed almost any player before he even took his first college snap.
But Andrew had arrived at UCLA as a true freshman and, instead of proving that the jump from high school was too big, had done exactly the opposite.
Missy found it especially interesting that Andrew almost never seemed to brag about any of it off the field.
In postgame interviews or press conferences, he redirected praise toward his teammates or barely seemed surprised when reporters told him he'd just broken another record or something like that.
But there were moments when something different surfaced.
Moments when it became perfectly clear that Andrew knew exactly how good he was.
Bosco had been one of them.
During high school, in an interview, he'd let it slip that the entire country would be able to watch the beating they were going to give them.
A line that sounded far too arrogant, the kind that could follow you for years if you failed to back it up.
Andrew went onto the field and backed it up. Destroying Bosco in their own house.
Arizona had been another.
The game had been decided long before, and UCLA kept attacking.
Fans yelling at him from the stands, Andrew answering with gestures, with plays, and with an attitude that made it pretty clear he had very little interest in slowing down just to make the opponent feel better.
That was when that side of him came out: cold, competitive, and even ruthless.
It wasn't exactly constant arrogance.
For the opponent, it was worse.
Andrew could spend an entire week acting as if his statistics were nothing special, but if someone genuinely challenged him, there were moments when he seemed to enjoy demonstrating exactly how wide the gap between them really was.
As if all that confidence normally stayed locked away, and all it took was giving him a reason to let it out.
Missy found that contradiction fascinating.
Maybe that was why, whenever a picture of him at some party surfaced, Missy never expected to see him with a drink in each hand and completely out of control.
It didn't fit the image she'd been watching for years.
Klein seemed like someone you'd want as a son-in-law.
Andrew seemed like someone you'd want on your side and definitely not standing across from you.
Manziel, on the other hand, was different.
Missy had already heard rumors around campus.
It hadn't even been two weeks since the Halloween pictures had circulated online: Johnny Football dressed as Scooby-Doo, partying and surrounded by girls in fairly revealing costumes. The photos had attracted enough attention that even sports media outlets had talked about them.
They were probably going to become popular all over again now because of the Alabama game.
So seeing him the night before accepting drinks and enjoying being the center of attention without much shyness hadn't exactly shattered any preconceived notions.
Missy sighed and picked up her phone.
She had several missed calls from her mother, although that problem had already been dealt with. There were also several messages she hadn't read, since during the game and then afterward, with all the craziness of the celebrations and parties, she hadn't opened her messages again.
One of them was from Paige.
Missy stared at the name for a moment before opening it.
They had started talking again recently.
Years had passed since their parents had forbidden them from seeing each other after the whole truck disaster and the attempt to make it to Florida.
She seriously doubted her mother cared much about it anymore.
Paige lived thousands of miles away. Besides, they were both eighteen.
They couldn't keep treating them like they were still thirteen.
Although, after those first few conversations, Missy had reached a rather unexpected conclusion.
Paige had become boring. That amused her a little.
Back during that stage of their lives, Paige had been the bad influence.
The rebel.
The one who pushed things a little farther than Missy probably would have on her own.
All of that had come out during those strange years when Paige seemed determined to prove to the world that she could act like any troubled teenager if she wanted to.
Now, though, Missy felt like their roles had almost reversed.
She was the one going out. The one going to parties. The one ending up waking up on a Sunday with a hangover.
Paige seemed to have become the responsible one.
In one of their conversations, Missy had asked what she'd done for Halloween. She'd expected something interesting.
After all, she was at UCLA, Los Angeles. Paige had told her she'd gone to a friend's house for a while.
So far, so good.
Then she'd added that she'd left relatively early and watched Twilight afterward.
Missy still remembered staring at the screen.
That was the plan?
Watch that bad Twilight movie?
Missy had almost felt betrayed. But, thinking about it more carefully, that version of Paige was probably a lot more authentic.
The rebellious Paige from years ago had always seemed like she was trying to prove something.
She wanted to show that she could be normal, irresponsible, and do all the stupid things every other teenager did.
This Paige didn't seem to need that anymore.
With intelligence comparable to that of her stupid brother Sheldon, Missy supposed it was only a matter of time before Paige ended up becoming exactly what she had always seemed destined to be: brilliant and successful.
Missy smiled a little as she opened the message. She raised an eyebrow when she saw it wasn't text.
It was a video.
She pressed play, and Paige appeared on the screen. Missy watched her with some curiosity.
It had been years since she'd actually seen her like this, moving and talking in front of a camera. She didn't even have a recent profile picture that was much help.
She was still blonde, hadn't dyed it or anything, and she was very pretty.
[Hey, Missy,] Paige greeted, slightly lifting her free hand. [Look who I'm with...]
Missy barely had time to process the sentence.
Paige turned the phone, and for a second Missy felt like her heart stopped.
A guy with black hair, light-colored eyes, and an instantly recognizable face appeared on screen.
Andrew Pritchett-Tucker.
[Hey, Missy. Thanks for supporting me and for following the games. I hope you enjoy today's game and that your team wins,] Andrew said, leaning in slightly so he fit better in the frame.
Then the camera turned back toward Paige. [Just wanted to show you that... bye.]
The video ended.
Missy remained perfectly still, not blinking. Her phone was still held out in front of her.
A couple of seconds passed. Then the phone slipped from her fingers and fell onto the bed.
Missy finally blinked. Then she grabbed it again with a speed completely different from a few minutes earlier.
'What the hell!?' she screamed in her head.
She went back to the chat.
She played the video again.
Paige, camera turn, and Andrew. She paused it there.
Missy moved the phone closer. Yes, it was him. Andrew Pritchett-Tucker had just said her name.
Missy played it again.
Again and again.
By the fifth replay, she was no longer checking whether it was real. She was simply watching it.
Then she started noticing other things.
The background. They seemed to be in an apartment, and there was clearly a certain closeness between them.
You could hear from Paige's tone of voice that she was having fun sending the video.
Also the way Andrew leaned closer to her to fit into the frame.
Missy slowly frowned.
Was Paige friends with Andrew?
That close?
Why hadn't she told her?
Missy had specifically messaged her because she'd seen Paige during the broadcast of the Oregon game in Eugene.
Paige had confirmed that she'd traveled to the game, but hadn't added anything else.
Missy had assumed it was because she had friends who were fans of the team or because, being at UCLA, she'd naturally gotten pulled into the whole football atmosphere.
But it looked like she'd been completely wrong. Her heart started beating a little faster. Then a much worse thought appeared.
'Oh, no,' she thought.
Her face started heating up.
Because now she remembered perfectly several of the things she'd told Paige about Andrew during their conversations.
Missy had openly told her that she would've loved to go to UCLA because of Andrew. That she was jealous Paige could go to the Rose Bowl and watch his games live, maybe even see him around campus or at some party, the way she sometimes did with Manziel.
'Please tell me she didn't tell him anything,' she thought.
She hoped Paige hadn't looked at Andrew and said something like, "By the way, my former friend from Texas is completely obsessed with you."
Missy dropped her head back onto the pillow. That would be humiliating.
Although she raised the phone again. Andrew had said her name and thanked her for following his games.
A smile slowly started to appear on her face. She had a personalized video of Andrew greeting her.
Suddenly, the possible humiliation seemed a lot less important.
She opened the keyboard.
She typed one thing and deleted it. Then typed something else and deleted that too because it sounded way too direct.
Eventually, she managed to write something and ended up sending several messages in a row.
She sighed and stared at the screen for a moment.
She wanted answers. Now Sunday had become way too interesting. The bad part was that she had to wait.
…
On Monday, everything kept exploding.
@SportsCenter:
Johnny Manziel named Walter Camp National Offensive Player of the Week after leading Texas A&M past No. 1 Alabama.
vs. Alabama:
24/31 passing
253 passing yards
2 passing TD
92 rushing yards
345 total yards
Texas A&M 29 — Alabama 24
Johnny Football just walked into Tuscaloosa and beat the No. 1 team in the country
💬 Tweet replies:
@AggieMike12:
HEISMAN. THAT'S IT. THAT'S THE TWEET.
@mikeaprice09:
Freshman QB. Bryant-Denny. Beat No. 1 Alabama. That's a Heisman moment.
@TAMUJess:
Johnny Football is real
@JameswildcatKSU:
Klein still has the better season.
@doyunome19:
Great game. Pritchett still has more touchdowns and fewer interceptions
@Cinekveaggies:
Manziel just beat ALABAMA in Tuscaloosa. Numbers aren't everything.
@BruinNationLA:
Pritchett came back from 37 down at Oregon and had 582 total yards + 7 TD. The biggest comeback in NCAA HISTORY. Against the No. 2 team in the country, on the road. We can do this all day.
@gianpa.v44s:
Manziel vs Pritchett is becoming the freshman Heisman race nobody expected in August.
@LNW-by8gw:
Manziel now has the signature win. Pritchett has the signature comeback. Klein keeps winning. Te'o has Notre Dame unbeaten.
@jimmorsion528:
This Heisman race is getting stupidly good.
…
@ESPNCFB:
Johnny Manziel's trophy case keeps growing.
Through 10 games:
2× Walter Camp National Offensive Player of the Week
3× SEC Offensive Player of the Week
7× SEC Freshman of the Week
Johnny Football is officially everywhere.
💬 Tweet replies:
@KaidKall:
SEVEN freshman awards in ten games just rename it the Johnny Manziel Award already.
@alex-aggiegxd:
3 SEC Offensive Player of the Week awards in his first year in the conference. Insane.
@vickyjust1992:
Manziel should be No. 1 now and everyone else should be fighting for second.
@ryanbruinsTWP (replying to vickyjust1992):
???
Pritchett-Tucker:
9/10 Pac-12 Freshman of the Week
6× Pac-12 Offensive Player of the Week
2× Walter Camp National Offensive Player of the Week
4× Davey O'Brien Quarterback of the Week (Manziel doesn't have a single one)
@johannawatson9:
LMFAO this freshman class is broken.
@christyou3:
Pritchett vs Manziel discourse is going to make this app unusable until December
…
As Andrew prepared to face USC, he watched the conversation surrounding the Heisman favorites grow more and more throughout the week.
Although he tried to pay as little attention to it as possible.
Manziel had firmly established himself among the top three Heisman candidates. For many Texas A&M fans, he was even number one.
The national networks, however, were considerably more cautious.
Practically every Heisman Watch moved him up significantly. Manziel went from usually appearing somewhere in the top five to becoming a clear top-three candidate.
But that didn't mean he had automatically jumped into first place.
In most rankings, the picture of the race looked fairly similar:
1. Andrew Pritchett-Tucker.
2. Collin Klein.
3. Johnny Manziel.
4. Manti Te'o.
The win over Alabama had been enormous. But it was still one moment within an entire candidacy.
Texas A&M was 8-2 and ranked ninth in the country. An excellent season, especially considering it was their first year in the SEC, but still with two losses.
UCLA, on the other hand, was 9-1 and ranked No. 3 in the country.
Andrew had been sitting in first or second place on most lists for quite some time.
On top of that, he already had his own Heisman moment. One that was pretty difficult to top, both individually and historically.
The same went for Klein.
Kansas State remained undefeated and ranked No. 1 in the country. Klein had excellent numbers, leadership, consistency, and the enormous advantage of still being unbeaten.
Statistically, however, he trailed Andrew in several important categories and also didn't have a single individual game as spectacular as Oregon or Alabama.
That was one of the points beginning to divide analysts.
Klein had the perfect record.
Manziel had Alabama.
Andrew had something close to both combined: a top-three team, better numbers, and several huge moments.
Manti Te'o remained part of the conversation for different reasons.
He was the defensive and emotional leader of one of the most important teams of the season.
But as a linebacker, his candidacy always required a different kind of comparison from the quarterbacks.
So the real development that week was Manziel.
There were also some journalists, former players, and analysts who placed him above Klein. They weren't the majority. But it wasn't that strange anymore. Klein was still missing that one huge Heisman moment.
Inevitably, statistical comparisons started appearing everywhere.
@ESPNCFB:
Heisman race through Week 11:
Andrew Pritchett-Tucker — UCLA: 73.79 CMP%, 3,322 PASS YDS, 524 RUSH YDS, 3,846 TOTAL YDS, 40 PASS TD, 5 RUSH TD, 45 TOTAL TD, 3 INT
Collin Klein — Kansas State: 69.7 CMP%, 2,020 PASS YDS, 748 RUSH YDS, 2,768 TOTAL YDS, 12 PASS TD, 19 RUSH TD, 31 TOTAL TD, 3 INT
Johnny Manziel — Texas A&M: 67.6 CMP%, 2,780 PASS YDS, 1,014 RUSH YDS, 3,794 TOTAL YDS, 18 PASS TD, 15 RUSH TD, 33 TOTAL TD, 6 INT
Three quarterbacks. Three very different Heisman cases.
The post quickly passed a thousand comments. Endless debates over who was having the best season.
Who would deserve the Heisman if voting ended that very day. How much a team's record should matter.
Whether Manziel's rushing production made up for the gap in passing touchdowns.
Or whether Klein was being hurt simply because his style of play was less spectacular.
But the comparisons didn't stay limited to statistics. The internet found much less serious ways to fuel the rivalry.
One of them started with an apparently stupid tweet from a practically unknown account.
@edward-woos:
Important question:
Which nickname is better?
Jesus Christ of Football or Johnny Football?
At first there were only a few replies.
Then there were hundreds, until one account made the post explode.
@Chandlerbing:
that question is offensive
That pushed it into the thousands of replies. Both nicknames already had lives of their own.
Johnny Football was becoming popular at an incredible speed. It was simple, catchy, and fit his style perfectly.
But Jesus Christ of Football belonged to a different category.
Andrew's nickname had been circulating for years.
It had started almost as an Internet joke during high school, when his numbers and undefeated record began to look too impossible to be real. Then it spread to YouTube comments, Twitter, signs in stadiums, and fan-made shirts.
Over time, even sports shows had started mentioning it every now and then, usually with a laugh.
The informal poll eventually turned into another battlefield between Bruins, Aggies, and people who simply enjoyed watching both groups argue.
On Reddit, the conversations were much longer.
A post on r/CFB got hundreds of replies within a few hours.
Which was the better individual performance: Pritchett-Tucker vs. Oregon or Manziel vs. Alabama?
Memes weren't enough there.
There were entire serious paragraphs with screenshots of plays, quarter-by-quarter stats, context, quality of the opponent...
And so the days passed.
Every UCLA press conference inevitably ended up talking about the Heisman: Manziel, Klein, Te'o, or some new BCS scenario.
But for Andrew, Steve, and the rest of UCLA, there was something much more immediate.
Something that had been circled on the calendar for months.
Saturday, November 17 finally arrived.
UCLA against USC.
The Los Angeles rivalry.
The game UCLA fans had been waiting for since the season began.
A year earlier, the Bruins had walked into the Coliseum and left humiliated.
50-0.
A loss that was still very fresh in people's minds. In fact, Andrew had gone to watch that game, and there were pictures.
Now everything was different.
UCLA was ranked No. 3 in the country.
USC was inside the top ten.
Andrew was leading the Heisman race, and for the first time in a long time, the Bruins weren't entering the rivalry simply hoping to compete with their neighbor.
They were coming for revenge.
"Los Angeles, baby!" Chandler exclaimed the moment he stepped into the terminal, throwing his arms out to the sides with almost theatrical exaggeration as he set one suitcase down on the floor.
Ross appeared a few steps behind him, carrying his own things and looking around with a mix of exhaustion and excitement. "I can't believe we're here."
It was a little after six in the morning, and they had just landed after a long flight from New York.
Later that same day, they would be at the Rose Bowl watching the Los Angeles rivalry.
They had been invited by Andrew.
Chandler turned toward Ross with an overly confident smile. "Come on, we need to move. I have an interview in an hour," he said before starting to walk.
Ross watched him move away for a second before shaking his head and following.
He had to admit that, this time, he had quite a bit of respect for his friend.
The interview was for College GameDay, which should be set up on UCLA's campus right now.
Somehow, Chandler was going to appear on the show. It still sounded fake whenever Ross thought about it.
Chandler's Twitter account had grown a lot.
Every time Chandler posted something during a game, the message seemed to end up circulating everywhere.
Especially within the college football world.
Without really noticing it, he had ended up becoming one of those accounts that a lot of people recognized, even if they didn't know exactly who was behind it.
He wasn't a journalist, didn't work for ESPN or any other network, and wasn't a former player.
He had simply created a stupid nickname, made funny comments that people liked, and gone viral.
Apparently, that had been enough. College GameDay was known for bringing in several guests.
He wouldn't be the main guest or anything like that. He would probably get five minutes.
Ten, if he was lucky.
But that was still several minutes on national television with thousands of students all around him.
Ross caught up to Chandler, who was putting on a confident attitude. He didn't believe it for a second. He was nervous.
He was just far too proud to admit it.
As the taxi made its way through Los Angeles toward the hotel, Ross took out his phone and sent Monica a message.
[We're on our way,] he sent.
It was almost certain that his younger sister, Howard, and Leonard were already on campus.
College GameDay wasn't simply a show that was going to be filmed there that morning.
For UCLA, it was an event.
It had been fourteen years since the program had chosen a Bruins game as its host site. The last time had been in 1998, when Oregon visited UCLA.
Even then, they hadn't really been in Westwood. That broadcast had been done from the Rose Bowl, in Pasadena.
This time was different.
For the first time, College GameDay was setting up its stage directly on UCLA's campus.
From the moment ESPN confirmed the selection during the week, Westwood had transformed.
Students talking about the show in the hallways.
People organizing themselves to wake up before dawn just to get a good spot behind the cameras.
Even students who normally paid little attention to football wanted to be there simply because they knew UCLA would be on national television for hours.
There were universities that could go decades without ever getting a College GameDay visit.
Some never got one at all.
For ESPN to bring the entire show to a campus, that game had to be considered one of the biggest events of the entire weekend.
Thinking about it carefully, the fact that Chandler was going to appear in the middle of all that made the situation even stranger.
Especially because of the way he'd gotten there.
Andrew hadn't pulled any strings. He hadn't called ESPN or anything like that.
He had simply asked them if they wanted to travel for the game and told them he could get them tickets.
Chandler and Ross handled the rest.
When he accepted the invitation, Chandler did what he had been doing for months every time something related to Andrew happened.
He posted it on Twitter.
He announced that he would be traveling to Los Angeles to personally witness the rivalry and see the Jesus Christ of Football again, this time in his sanctuary.
Technically, it wasn't the first time he'd seen Andrew play. He had been at one of his high school all-star games.
But not at the Rose Bowl.
The tweet went viral.
There were endless jokes about pilgrimages, shrines, and Chandler arriving in Pasadena like a believer on his way to the Holy Land.
Someone at ESPN apparently saw an opportunity that was simply too good to pass up.
So when Chandler announced that he would physically be in Los Angeles during UCLA's biggest GameDay appearance in more than a decade, ESPN reached out to him.
They arrived at the hotel, checked in, dumped their bags without much care, and headed right back out, this time toward UCLA's campus.
-------------------------------------------------
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