All day, I’ve been getting the dirtiest looks from people. The “you killed my son” or “you broke my daughter’s heart” look. Crazy because I’ve done neither of those things, at least not recently.
Some people wouldn’t even talk to me. I couldn’t figure it out. Had everyone figured out I watched Vanilla Ice’s comeback last night, and decided I was now a societal parasite?

Perhaps. But not likely.
Then I was out running errands for work, and it hit me:
I was wearing an orange polo shirt with a lime green tee underneath. And Nebraska is playing Miami in the Super Regional today in Lincoln. And according to the entire city, I was now a Miami fan.
Come on, have some more sense than that. I’m not rooting for Nebraska, but I’m certainly not rooting for Miami. Seriously.
In the words of the immortal Rick James, “That is absurd.”

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The deal is, I’m heading home for a wedding tonight right after work, and I’ll be arriving about halfway through the rehearsal dinner. So I wore a nice polo to work so that I wouldn’t have to change when I get there. Never once crossed my mind that orange and green together are Miami’s colors, or that Miami is playing Nebraska today. Its as simple as when I laid out the wardrobe, lime green looked nice under the orange. And it does. But not today, not in this state.
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Why is it a big deal? Well, it wouldn’t be, anywhere other than Nebraska. Here’s how it was explained to me by a co-worker in the breakroom this morning:
Their beloved Huskers lost to Miami (got their asses kicked by Miami, really) a lot in the Orange Bowl back in the ’80s, which at that time was played in The Orange Bowl stadium, Miami’s home field. They always accused Miami of being too chicken to play them up here. And Miami never called them on it and came up here. Now, in a different sport, they finally have. And somehow this is billed as revenge. Makes no sense.
This is like getting your ass kicked by some guy in karate, and then challenging him to a rematch — in Badminton.
Anyway, the hardcore football fans are suddenly interested in baseball. And I’ve insulted them now by wearing orange and green.
Nice.
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The beauty of it is, an email went around just like last week, saying today was “Wear Red Day” in the office. Last week when Creighton was playing, I wore blue. Because they’re my team, not because I was being ornery. If I had thought about it beforehand, there’s a 50/50 chance I wouldn’t have had the stones to wear this shirt combo. You talk about guts. An office full of red, and one guy wearing orange & green. And it was purely coincidental. I love it.
You bet.
The best part was walking into the pizza party in the breakroom where everyone was watching the game. (Well, trying to — it was in a rain delay so they were showing an old game on tape delay, and everyone was cheering as though it were live — there’s a joke in there somewhere but I’m not writing it)
I’d ponied up my $5, and dammit, I was getting my Zio’s Cajun Chicken pizza. Even if no one believed my story, and everyone believed I was rooting for the other team. One guy was with me, being a Michigan guy and all. He leaned over and muttered under his breath, “This is really freaking hilarious, how easy they are to piss off, isn’t it?”
The irony of it all is, I don’t really like either team. But if you had a gun to John Stamos’ head and were threatening to blow him away unless I picked one or the other…
I’m pretty sure I’m going with the Hurricanes.