I’m a proud Northern Nevada native—born at elevation, raised on Basque food, and hardwired to howl for the Nevada Wolf Pack. And yes, I said Nevada, not “UNR.” We were the first university in the entire state, thank you very much. That’s why up here, it’s simply Nevada. No descriptors needed. No clarifications offered. No apologies given.
Of course, fate has a wicked sense of humor, so I ended up going to Boyd Law School down south. And yes—before you say it—Boyd is on UNLV’s campus. But we don’t need to talk about that. We can simply appreciate the amazing law program there and… ignore that little detail. A Wolf Pack supporter that studied law in Rebel territory is basically academic espionage anyway. I survived by wearing enough blue and silver to ward off the scarlet aura. (Bleed blue and silver? Always. If you draw blood, it might just sparkle.) And all that free swag with that gross rebel red, just got handed on over to my family members that were crazy enough to go to undergrad in Vegas.
But nothing tested my loyalty quite like this year’s tailgate, standing in full Pack gear while facing the sad reality: the cannon is not going to be blue this year. Welp, guess you can say it gave me some emotional distress worthy of damages, interest, and attorney’s fees.
Still, it’s a building year. We’re rebuilding, reloading, and regrouping. And like every good Northern Nevadan, I’ve got fingers crossed for next season. Rivalry embraced, loyalty intact.
Go Pack. Always.
