I'm a bit of a packrat. Have a hard time tossing things that are past their time. Take this shirt for example...
I get attached to things like this. It's just a shirt. But I feel like I owe it something...some sort of loyalty. Because we've been through so much together. First the unbridled optimism...then the celebration of accomplishment...and later...well, you know what happened later.
So it occurred to me last night...why do I still have this thing? As a shirt, it's useless. A hole here, paint stains there, fraying at the edges. As a piece of nostalgia, it's more soul-crushing than heart-warming. I should have dumped it years ago. Or maybe even burned it...not violently or anything. You know, for catharsis.
But I didn't. The damn thing is still in my closet. And as I see it sitting there, I reach an epiphany. This is more than a shirt. This is a manifestation of Carolina fandom. More painful than joyful...less a keepsake than an albatross.
But still I cling...we cling. To Lou, to the Outback Bowls, to recruiting classes. All the while, this holey, unholy shirt takes up space in my wardobe. A space that could belong to a new shirt...should belong to a new shirt. A new symbol of support. A new way of thinking. A new vision. A new coat of paint. A new seating plan. A new speaker system. A new North Endzone. A new...more healthy relationship with the University of South Carolina.
Fuck that shirt. Time for a new one.