I remember four years ago when I was a tiny freshman, and I went to my first home football game as a Rockhurst student. I may have been towered over by seniors like Clayton Guy, but I felt like I was the coolest person for wearing a skirt for the Braveheart theme. There were St. Teresa’s and Sion girls whom I was probably trying to show off for. But one thing from that night that I still remember vividly is my first “walkdown”.
All of these memories came flooding back about a month ago. The first football game had arrived, and finally, I was that bigger kid who was at the front of the line. I was draped in blue paint and my Scottish attire. I was the senior trying to get adrenaline pumping in underclassmen. On the practice fields as everyone stretched across, I stopped screaming the chants and I just looked around. Something hit me. I came to the realization that this is the last time I will ever do this. This is my last “first walkdown”.
We got to the concessions and stood there as the drummers began their performance. I got the chills being right there listening to the sound of the pounding drums and watching the dopey dances of my peers. But the camaraderie between every student was one of the most incredible sights I have ever witnessed. In spite of hundreds of different guys screaming chants, all of it came together in reverent gusto. Through all of the chaos, there was a sweet, soothing melody roaring at Dasta Stadium.
My thoughts bounced around that night, similar to this piece. But one thing remained consistent throughout the game: senior year is bittersweet. This is my last year. I may not see half of my classmates ever again. If there is one idea I took away from that game, it is to take advantage of senior year, not let it slide, and make the most of my final months at the place that has helped made me who I am.