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One Bear Place #97116
Waco, Texas 76798
1-888-710-1859
Phone: (254) 710-1121
Fax: (254) 710-1096 |
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For the Hundredth Time
By Audrey Cary
My first sip from the steaming Styrofoam cupful of hot chocolate burned
my tongue and ruined my hopes for tasting anything else that night. But
tasting wasn’t the sense I needed most that night—I wanted to see the
passionate throng of Baylor fans executing their sic ‘ems and hear them
shouting their approval as the fiery cowboy fell from his post atop the
wooden crate bonfire. I wanted to feel the warmth of the orange blaze
at my back when I stood watching my friends (who are far more brave
than I am) riding in the shaky buckets of the Ferris wheel. I wanted to
hear the Golden Wave Band’s cymbals guy crash those cymbals with gusto,
the flutists fluttering their high notes, and the trumpeters blasting
their enthusiasm into the crisp air. I wanted to feel my freezing
fingers thawing out from the warm vapors escaping my cup of hot
chocolate. I wanted to hear the little shrieks of kids flying in a
circle on the swing ride. I wanted to be a part of the sights and
sounds flowing from Fountain Mall, which was packed with Baylor
students, family, faculty, and alumni during the 100th Homecoming
bonfire.
Before the unfortunate hot chocolate
incident, I spent an hour lazing around, eating pretzels from my
sorority’s booth, chatting with the former members of Sigma Phi Lambda
and watching the occasional hungry male sneak through and grab a
handful of snack mix. I watched the sidewalk in front of us while cute
green-and-gold clad families bustled to the inflatable bouncy castle. I
gushed over puppies dressed in Baylor garb and babies with Baylor
hair-bows. My friends and I would sigh a unanimous “awww” when
gray-haired Baylor grandparents (who, we were sure, had a romantic
story of how they first met in front of Judge Baylor fifty years ago)
would amble past the booth holding hands. An occasional sic ‘em would
flood through the masses and we would raise our Baylor Bear paws and
strike them down with an excited “Ahhhh Sic ‘Em Bears!” just as we’d
done since freshman year. Joining us in the act were toddlers toting
their foam bear claws—which of course earned another “aww” from the
group of girls. Oh, the joy of Baylor Homecoming.
Untarnished hopes of a win for Baylor football floated through the
crowd as the yellow-uniformed cheerleaders stood shouting their
encouragement for victory. People began to inch toward the roped-off
bonfire area, watching and waiting for the torches to be lit. Finally
the fire took hold of the stack and rose high, mingling with embers and
smoke. The dark sky behind the giant stage, outlining Pat Neff,
suddenly filled with fireworks, and the crackling, popping, banging
noises mixed with the cheers of the crowd.
“Can you believe we only have one more year of this?” my friend Rachel
somberly reminded me as we waited for that first flame to conquer the
crates. “At least we’re here now,” I said, fumbling to put my camera
away so I could take part in yet another sic ‘em rushing through the
multitude of past, present, and future Baylor Bears.
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