David Everett Fisher


November 8, 2012 Uncategorized

Rose Bowl & Ling Ling’s Deaths.

This is a reblog. I think it is important to remember those who have fallen. Going to a college bowl game is a horrific ordeal and if you have a chance to go, be weary, you may find yourself in the Heart of Darkness. This all happened on the way to, at and back from the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, California where our beloved Oregon University took on the Wisconsin Badgers. Please let this entry be a warning.

First off, I want to say thank you Andy Miller for asking me second to come with him to watch Oregon defeat Wisconsin in the Rose Bowl. Our seats were perfect and we didn’t really deserve to sit there. I also want to thank Gabriel Cruz for driving and his uncle for putting us up and feeding us with delicious stew. I dedicate this post to the memory of Matt Duenas, who was a total bastard that no one will remember anyway.

We left at 10am on Sunday from my house and just drove with few stops. We all learned that Gabriel has a weak and small bladder, and he told us how he was diagnosed with nickel sized bladder disease. We thought about stopping to tip some cows, but the argument of whether you push or pull broke out, and we decided to just wait till we were driving back.

We kept missing In and Out Burgers, but finally found one in southern Sacramento. We all ate a cheeseburger wishing we were at a Burgerville. Sorry, Californians, In and Out burgers are meh.

We got to Long Beach 15 1/2hourslater and stayed with Gabe’s uncle. He was a gracious host who fed us at one in the morning and laid out a mattress and blankets. We cannot thank him enough, so please wish him all the good karma you can.

We all tried to get some sleep until this ungodly sound started gushing out of Matt’s face. He is the loudest snorer I have ever heard. He sounded like a lumber mill being amplified at an arena for Rush fans. He became a warthog. Gabe had warned us about Matt’s apnea, but I don’t think we were ready for that kind of racket.

About 3am, Matt’s snoring stop, so we all fell asleep, but when we woke up we found that he had died in his sleep. This was very inconvenient for us, so we stuffed him under the uncle’s couch cushions and left for the Rose Bowl. Matt’s dead – he fucking died!

After parking in some neighborhood in Pasadena, we walked up Arroyo Blvd following some kind of ravine that Gabe said the LA River was at the bottom of, but I never saw any water. Matt kept talking about how hungry he was and when he was in Guam, he ate fruit bats. I kept telling him he was lying,but he insisted that when we walked back at dark he would catch one and eat it.

The houses along Arroyo Blvd were spectacular and we admired the landscaping at most of them. Andy said we were about three miles away from the stadium, but I think it ended up being twelve.

Matt is an OSU fan, and so he was being one of those sore loser contrarians by wearing all red and high fiving all the Wisconsin Badger fans we passed. Andy started grinding his teeth and clenching his fist till his knuckles turned white. Luckily I brought a blow gun with tranquilizer darts just in case I had to put down the warthog. Or Andy.

Our seats were perfect. We sat just a smidgen left of the 50 yard line and only 30 rows up right in front of a walkway which was blocked off during the game so no one was walking in front of us. We were also on a corner so we could get out easier. We found our seat about an hour before the game started and I was completely overwhelmed. I have been to college football games before, but not a bowl game and not the Rose Bowl.

When we first got there it seemed like yellow, for the ducks, was the prominent color, but as it got closer to game time a sea of red washed the opposite side of the field and my feelings of dominance diminished.

Wisconsin got the ball first and marched down the field at a crazy fast pace and finally Russell Wilson hit Jared Abbrederis for a touchdown. Oregon responded nine plus minutes later with a LaMichael James touchdown. This is when I officially knew we were in for a good game and Wisconsin let me know I was right by scoring five minutes later with Wilson rushing into the end-zone.

The next Oregon possession was where I felt the emotion of where I was and what I was watching. I watched 19 year old De’Anthony Thomas run 91 yards for a touchdown. This kid not only runs fast he runs smart and the Oregon fans were finally all the way into the game with a symphony of O’s. End of first quarter.

Wisconsin and Oregon kept going back and forth and Oregon’s defense seemed unsure of itself the first part of the game, but got stronger and started making stops towards the end of the first half.

In the third quarter De’Anthony Thomas runs 64 yards for a touchdown and the Oregon fans are besides themselves. Many high fives with strangers ensue. Our defense kept Wisconsin to a field goal. Then Wisconsin got another touchdown making the score 38 – 35 Wisconsin, and Wisconsin had the ball again towards the end of the 3rd quarter, but Wilson through an interception to Linebacker Kiko Alonso, the game’s MVP.

Oregon finished the game scoring a touchdown and a field goal and holding Wisconsin scoreless for a 45 – 38 win. The stadium erupted and I felt ecstatic. The feeling was electric and I was so happy to be a part of history. I don’t think I’ll ever be apart of something that magical again, and I’ll cherish that game for the rest of my life.

We met up with Matt and Gabe and started heading back to the car. As promised, Matt climbed a eucalyptus tree and started swishing a small net around trying to catch a fruit bat. A shadowy figure we had not noticed before started moving from one side of the tree towards Matt who was swaying back and forth on the tallest branch.

He was killed by a drop bear. Killed him. Matt’s fucking dead.

We decided on Church’s chicken when we got into Pasadena.

The four of us were tired as hell, and since we had to settle on Popeye’s Chicken on Van Nuys since all the Oregonians were clogging up all the In & Outs, we were in poor spirits. It seemed the strawberry soda didn’t perk us up at all and tension was mounting between Andy and Matt over the differences in the football programs of Oregon and Oregon State. The cell phone service was poor, so the arguments were old fashioned.

We were in need of coffee or energy drinks, so we stopped off at a gas station somewhere North of the Bakersfield turn off. We all went to the bathroom, bought some energy drinks and Gabe, Andy and I jumped in the car and took off leaving Matt standing in front of the store with no jacket and no phone.

We couldn’t stop laughing and we laughed till we stopped and puked in Sacramento, and we laughed until we got to Ashland. We drove in silence for awhile, all thinking we had done the funniest thing ever, and we broke out in laughter again when we got to Cottage Grove.

We heard Matt died of hypothermia while trying to hitch hike back to Oregon. He just laid down in a ditch and fucking died. Matt’s fucking dead, man, fucking dead!

Now that I finally got some sleep, I started laughing again.

The four of us decided since we weren’t pressed for time to stop somewhere in central California and tip a cow. If you don’t know, tipping a cow is only funny because you sneak up on a sleeping cow, who sleeps standing up, and push them to the ground and they can’t get up. This is why we can eat them, they’re too stupid to stand up on their own, but I digress.

We found a nice cow pasture and we piled out of the car and headed towards the heifers. After chasing a bunch of cows who were not in fact asleep at 9 in the morning, we found one that was napping. We decided that the best way to get the cow on her side was to rock her back and forth like a row boat and when she got to an extreme angle, she would fall over. Andy, Gabe and I got on one side and Matt got on the other bragging about his brute strength. We rocked the cow back and forth until finally she tipped over – right on top of Matt. Crushed him to death. Matt died. He fucking is dead, man.

We went to a diner and ate breakfast.


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