Timeline: Sunday, 12:45 a.m. (that means the beginning of Sunday)
I see: the F1 grid ready to start at Susuka
I hear: the commentators giving all sorts of information about the race, the country, etc.
I smell: the terrible coffee available in the common room
I feel: anxious… Go, Vettel!!!
I grew up under one premise: love everything about your life except for traffic.
I must say that, where I come from, average income is around one-fifth of what it is in the US and cars cost twice or three times as much, yet the very few people who can actually afford to drive around in cars still make things chaotic. The public transportation system is decent, and definitely better than in Columbus, but there are so many people who use it that it’s not something you want either.
However, I have never seen such a BAD case of traffic woes as in Columbus, OH. The case is so bad that I’ve actually come to think that it’s not the only place around here where this happens.
Now, if you know about Columbus, you’re probably scratching your head thinking how this can be so in a city with something around a million or so inhabitants spread out over such a wide area, and famous for everything being at most 20 minutes away. If you’ve actually lived in Columbus, there’s still a chance that you don’t yet get my point. However, if you’re a foreigner living here, you know what I’m talking about: home-game Saturdays.
Whenever there’s a home game in our beloved Horseshoe (that’s the girlie-football stadium, for those who haven’t been here), I look out my window and see a corner that’s about four or five blocks to the west of it and see four to six people in glow-in-the-dark attire with cones, lighted sticks, whistles and a very serious attitude. The scene repeats itself in just about every single corner around campus, and yes, I mean just around campus, because on campus there are people from every three-letter government agency and their respective uniforms armed to their teeth patrolling of standing guard in groups of no less than three people covering all known campus area. I’m pretty sure there’s even some we cannot see.
The first time I saw the scene I was vaguely reminded of the times the President of our country visited my college’s campus back home. I remember thinking “well, this is kind of exaggerated, but it must happen only for the inaugural game of the season”. But no, it happens every single time the Buckeye team plays whomever, and I’ve learned several things the hard way: first, do NOT make any plans whatsoever that involve mobility around the city, and second, traffic in my hometown is beautiful compared to this. I truly admire the passion that people feel around these games, but I think they’re overspending taxpayer money mobilizing the small army they deploy just to watch over a bunch of college students cheer for some guys hitting their heads against others’ (even if it is a big bunch: over 100,000 people fit into the Horseshoe, with easily 4 times as many around it).
Here’s a thing: I’m writing this before seeing what it’s like when the Buckeyes play the school up north.
“I’m someone else, I’m someone new, I’m someone stupid just like you” –Marilyn Manson