Scott's Quest

I debated the issue for several hours. Should I leave at four, or should I try to be there by four? Four in the morning that is. This was important to me and I wasn’t going to let myself, or anyone else, down. I decided to split the difference and before I lied down for the night I set my alarm for three forty-five.

After one punch of the snooze button I jumped out of bed and turned on the stove. I threw on a few layers of clothes, had a quick bowl of cereal, and poured the now boiling water into the previously prepared cup of hot coco mix that I had craftily prepared the night before.

I got in my car about ten minutes after four, the temperature read 28 degrees. Good thing I had come prepared. I pulled up to the Marriott Center around four fifteen. The temperature now read 25 degrees and falling.

I surveyed the area and saw only one other car in the parking lot and no one standing near the doors. I positioned my car so that between my peripheral vision and my rear view mirrors I could monitor all activity.

I had brought with me several things to read, my iPod, and my phone to pass the time. I set my alarm for five just in case I dozed off and began to read. A few other cars pulled into the parking lot. None of us wanted to brave the cold before we absolutely had to, but we didn’t want to give anyone else too big of an advantage. It felt like a chess match and game of chicken all rolled into one. I continued reading, sipping my hot chocolate, and running my car for a few minutes at a time to keep me warm, all while keeping a close eye on my early rising rivals.

Shortly after six, all hell broke loose. One of the car doors opened and set in motion a torrent of activity. Luckily I was prepared for this event. I had my backpack, my blankets, and my gloves positioned for a quick exit. I deftly maneuvered myself to the ticket office door and, once situated, I found myself surprisingly warm, sufficiently entertained, and second in line.

I passed the time reading Sports Illustrated and intermittently chatting with my fellow die-hards. At about quarter to seven a tiny bit of panic struck when I realized that staying warm wasn’t going to be my number one problem; having to go number one was going to be my number one problem. Hot chocolate on a near empty stomach will go straight through you.

I was silently commending myself on my excellent planning and execution. I was warm, comfortable, and had arrived at just the right time. I had made phone calls and asked all the appropriate questions to know exactly what to expect. My plan had gone off without a hitch and soon my planning, preparation, and early rising were going to come to fruition.

At quarter to eight we were told that they were almost ready for us and were going to start a few minutes early. I efficiently gathered my things and prepared myself for the long awaited entrance into the warm lobby. I knew that I would be commended by a few and ridiculed by others. But anyone who knows me well would be far from surprised by my efforts.

Shortly before eight, we were led inside single file. After a friendly exchange through the glass window, a quick swipe of my Visa card, and a sincere “Enjoy the game,” I walked away with exactly what I had set out for four hours earlier: Five tickets to the Las Vegas Bowl.

Go Cougars, see you in Vegas.