No, not those Eagles. Those Eagles stink. At least the Eagles I assume everyone is thinking about. Though their rallying cry is more “Go Birds” so they might balk at the go Eagles reference. Either way, Philadelphia sports suck. Let’s move on.
The Eagles in question and the hat referenced in the title come from my alma mater Emory University. Though when I was student there the Sports Information Director (my boss) lamented that Emory chose the Eagles — the most common mascot in America — as its mascot. I digress.
For those unaware, Emory is a Division III University in suburban Atlanta, and it was a lovely place to get an undergraduate degree. I have almost nothing but positive memories of my experience there. As with any experience, there are some things I wish I had done differently, but on the whole I look back with great fondness. I made some wonderful friends, some of whom even read my newsletter regularly (hi guys!). Generally, thinking of Emory brings a warm, wonderful feeling, and a sense of pride.
Going to a school like Emory, at least as I’ve gradually moved my way back to New England there are still lots of positive feeling, but it’s positivity in isolation. There are not a lot of people roaming the streets in Emory gear. And even if I happen to tell someone where I went to school, I do so knowing there’s a decent chance the’ve never heard of it. Even if I want to show a little Emory pride and wear some clothes, I likely have to go online to the school bookstore and order it there — not something readily available on a lot of public sites.
These are not big problems, obviously. Being an alum of a mostly unknown University (in this part of the world) is not a big deal. But it does create a small little ping of envy. Envy when I see friends who bring their kids to UConn games, or can share in the excitement, and ultimate disappointment of Syracuse failure (hi Chris), or many of the other local large Universities or schools that have much more familiarity than Emory. I once again reiterate, this is the most niche of “problems.” This is very lowercase “e” envy. Even my wife’s alma mater The University of Virginia has games on television we could theoretically watch or take part in together. Rory knows a few “go Hoos” cheers. This is all a small piece of life that is hard to engage with for Emory.
Enter the hat. I believe I mentioned previously when I attempted to wax poetic about retired Emory baseball coach Mike Twardoski that I was given an Emory baseball hat my senior year. There are probably not many graduates that didn’t actually play sports with as much connection to Emory athletics as me. I spent four years working in the Emory sports information office as a student, and did stats, wrote about, broadcast, or otherwise covered probably over a hundred games during the course of four years. Emory has an elite Division III athletics program, maybe the best overall program in the country. But that sense of pride and community doesn’t translate the way it does ay many bigger Division I schools. I will semi regularly check the athletics website to see how various teams are faring (or out of curiosity for how many of the coaches I knew and worked with are still there). But I imagine I’m the only one of my friends who does that…or if others do it’s not more than two or three. The experience is different. You can watch games or events streaming online, but that’s the extent. The word that comes to mind is isolating.
That Emory baseball hat is one of the few things I own demonstrating my allegiance to my school. Only it doesn’t really fit my head. I also don’t wear baseball hats all that often. I used to display it in my office when I was employed, but when that chapter closed, it came home with my other office decorations and sat in a box. Probably until I pulled it out to make sure I still had it when writing the Twardoski story. At that point it moved into the bin with the rest of our family hats and rarely saw any use.
And then recently a funny thing happened…every now and then Rory would put on my Emory hat. I believe the first time was when he wore it to one of his School of Rock performances. Though he wore it backwards some of the time so the logo wasn’t really visible. The big moment came last weekend when he and I were leaving to go play some mini golf and I suggested he should grab a hat because it was hot and sunny and he picked the Emory hat.
Playing a round of mini golf (which is it’s own weird brand of nostalgia, because we played on a course I played on with my dad as a kid) with him sporting his Emory hat unexpectedly gave me the feels. Seeing him with it hat on…pride isn’t the right word. I don’t think reverse envy is a thing either, but maybe that’s what it was. And joy feels a bit over the top. It was a nice little bit of warmth, that’s maybe the best way to describe it. The equivalent of a warm hug. A positive little jolt of warm feeling. Here’s hoping he will keep throwing that hat on and we can collectively bring a little Emory pride to the world of central Connecticut.
Go Eagles.
Now that's a cool 😎 story!!!
I've heard of emery university and have Other friends Who have attended and have fun memories.