Kansas State Athletics offer few true moments of happiness any more for me. There has been too much pain, disappointment, anger and betrayal for me to ever love as truly, madly, deeply as I did back when that melodic phrase had currency with my female peers. All of the memories are just as fuzzy, analog and dated as the YouTubes ripped from VHS. The players were larger than life, not just because they were NFL talents, but also because I, we, were more invested. The state of 21st century NCAA athletics has laid bare more and more of the things that we put out of sight, out of mind during the 90's and 2000's.
Cynicism and skepticism has overwhelmed the fan experience. Not just the true scandals of criminality that have humbled some of the most revered names in college football, which have horrified everyone except the fan bases willing to excuse rapists and their protectors, but also the institutional rot that allowed regional conferences to be broken up in favor of a collection of television markets. Capitalism has become such a central force behind college athletics, that every interaction feels transactional.
My disgust with John Currie's K-State Athletics, Inc. is both specific and contextual. He is the perfect example of what we have sowed. He is the perfect reflection of what the modern athletic department. The "fans" are really just consumers and "games" are really just "opportunities for branding." "Coaches" are "brand ambassadors" and though student-athletes are not officially recognized as labor, they are disposable. Traditions are rough ridin' tagline, not an organic point of pride. And wins, are only useful inasmuch as they feed the machine.
I take no pleasure in typing these thoughts. It has been a long miserable march toward the current state of things. I am actually ok with this new stage and have accepted it.
Today, I even felt some hope. We beat the bad guys.
My son knows the fight song, he cheers for the team, he smiled a genuine smile when he found out we won after his nap. He emptied a bag of clementines into the fridge crisper by dunking them over his little brother and saying he was practicing for the Wildcat Slam Jam.
He also believes Jesus was crucified on a "plus sign."
I too will indulge myself some magical thinking and embrace the mythology of LHC Bill Snyder for a last go round. If the propagandists can't fill your heart with love, create your own and embrace it on your own terms.
Because the machine will carry on.
