The sun bears down harshly, vengeful, as the crowd files into Spartan Stadium. The spectators feel the warmth on their necks and arms as they flash their ticket at the gate. They feel the heat steaming off the metal benches, scorching their fingers and legs at the slightest touch. They feel the deceitful cool of a cloud, drifting in front of the sun and giving the illusion of safety; most will leave the stadium today red in the face, either from the sun or from screaming.
A pulse issues throughout the stands as the anticipation mounts; the crowd is ready to see the Spartans take the field, anxious to see if their luck will last another week. Their opponents, the Bowling Green State University Falcons, are supposedly better competitors than the previous week's adversary, and no one knows which team Fate will favor this afternoon. The Michigan State University marching band and Sparty the mascot come onto the field, only serving to rile the crowd even further. The stands are a massive bubble, swelling with each yell and chant, ready to burst at the drop of a hat.
AC/DC's "Thunderstruck" comes over the speakers, and an electric cry goes up from every Spartan in the audience; it's time. A mass of applause and yelling issues forth so powerfully that it becomes impossible to distinguish one voice from another -- all have melded into one unified voice, welcoming the Spartan football team onto the field. The student section turns into a frothy sea at the sight of the behemoths in green and white, each student jumping and clapping and screaming as loud as they can. When the Falcons hit the grass, a BOO of epic proportions drowns out all other noise. The football game begins.
The Spartans strike quickly, using their superior military skills to punch through the Falcons to a 7-0 lead at the end of the first quarter. However, the Spartan shields and spears are no match for the power of flight, as the Falcons soar to a tying touchdown. The spectators are displeased, and the mood shifts from elation to vexation, and further droops to fury when the Falcons drive to another seven points shortly after. The sea grows calm, waiting for their Spartans to deliver, hoping that something will turn them around. And they are in luck, for the Spartans fight their way through the feathers to tie the game again, 14-14.
Some time passes, and something unthinkable happens. The ball is in Falcon possession, and the mighty Spartans are doing their best to hold. A Falcon attempts to carry the ball, but it slips through his wings and hits the earth. A lightning flash of green and white, and a Spartan has the ball in his well-equipped hands, running down for a touchdown. But, alas, a whistle is blown, and the mighty Spartan is called back. The sea is silent, waiting to hear the verdict. The ruling: Falcon ball!
Wave after wave of middle fingers surge forward from the student section, crashing against the front lines with a thunderous chant of "BULLSHIT!" No one can hear anything above the bellowing of the sea. One sole referee, a black-and-white striped zebra trots forward, trying to appease the thunderous clamor of students and spectators. He essentially says nothing can be done, the play cannot be reviewed. But this, of course, does no good; the waves resume with even more exuberance as every Spartan prays to the gods for the smiting of the Falcons.
And their prayers are answered. MSU breaks the back of every Falcon on the field, plowing through their line and taking the ball back, the ball that is rightfully theirs. The Falcons make a fleeting attempt to recover, but their wings are bent, and their talons are weak. The call of the sea has wrecked them beyond the point of return, and the second half is all spears and shields.
The game ends with a final score of 28-17, in favor of the green and white Spartans. The Falcons leave, their spirits broken. The fans leave, red-in-the-face from the sun and screaming, smiling and reminiscing until the next game. As they leave, they give forth one final yell: "This is Sparta!"