In case you missed it, this weekend was the big homecoming game–that’s football, for you uninitiated. Not to worry, Bwog’s own Odysseus went on an epic journey to find
Alma Bwogger Penelope, as they both homecame.
Tell me, Muse, of the men of many ways, who were driven to 218th Street, after they had been sacked 53-7 in New Jersey’s sacred citadel. Many were they whose crowded stadia they envied, whose minds they scoffed at, many the pains they suffered in their spirit on the wide land, struggling for their own lives and the homecoming of their companions. Even so they could not save their classmates’ school spirit, though (we think?) they strove to; their classmates were destroyed by their own wild recklessness, fools, who devoured the free beer of Roar-ee, the Lion God, and he took away the day of their nostos…
The journeyers, Odysseus and strong Aeolus, happened upon that distant citadel of East Campus. Calypso, patron of this scarred land, did not at once answer Odysseus’ call for entrance. A Barnard seal of identification, alas, would not allow admittance. Arete, however, heard the call and answered, granting Odysseus and Aeolus entrance and offering libations in glass chalices. Calypso, hearing of Odysseus’ arrival, cried out across the
townhouses caves. Odysseus came to her side, finding her appearance chang’d–she had been affected by a plague, turning the skin of her cheeks blue.
Meanwhile Penelope, hidden away in a Risen on High, called out for Odysseus, trying to determine how he aimed to come home. But Odysseus was captivated by the blue of Calypso’s skin, mixed with the libations he had just
shotgunned partaken in.
“We must go,” Calypso, driven mad by Dionysus, cried to her companions. “Come with me,” she urged Odysseus and Aeolus, “and your skin, too, shall be turnt blue.”
Passing the temple to Alma Mater, they were joined by sirens, who began to scream: “ROAR, LION, ROAR.” The travelers joined their enchanting melody: “AND WAKE THE ECHOES OF THE HUDSON VALLEY.” On finishing their anthem, a siren started another canticle: “OH WHO OWNS NEW YORK?” she trilled.
“Fair maiden,” Odysseus interrupted, “alas, nobody fucking knows that song.”
The merry journeyers found themselves aboard a vessel, set to bring them to Baker Field. As they passed the fair Hudson Valley, the sirens again began to serenade “ROAR LION ROAR.” They then attempted a chant of “FOUR MORE BEERS” as well as of “SENIORS” but found their magic had no power here; the other passengers
were old, sober adults had wax in their ears. Still, as Calypso had promised, the faces of Aeolus and Odysseus were #turntblue, incurred by the combination of blue face paint from Ricky’s and an accursed orange juice and Nikolai mixture that had been brought onboard. A sparkling “C” shined on their right cheeks.
“Where are you?” Penelope cried from her Risen on High. “A vessel hath taken me away!” Odysseus protested.
At Baker, Odysseus and his companions were confronted by tens of suitors. Frightened by the
security guards stone-faced suitors, the sirens threw their bags, filled with illegal imports of seriously such a shitty OJ/Nikolai mix Cretan wine, over the fences. They disguised themselves as sober sports fans and found entrance into the Complex. Their bags were discovered and taken by the stone-faced suitors, but cunning Telemachus snatched them away while the suitors were not looking and returned them to his father.
Eurycleia offered Odysseus and Aeolus a fine
pizza spanakopita but they declined her kindness, hoping instead to find the libations of Roar-ee, Lion God.
“Will they give me all four beers at the same time?” a siren mused. They would not, Odysseus learned, as Roar-ee granted the weary travelers one beer at a time and the muses sang.
Odysseus interacted with patrons of the Greek islands SDT and AXO, who revealed that they, too, were under disguise: while they could wear the
printed t-shirts traditional garb of their lands, all islanders are now forced to conceal the Greek letters that would distinguish them in artistic renderings posted to Facebook.
“Did you get there already???” Penelope
texted asked via running messenger.
It was then that Odysseus was approached by Circe. “Come with me,” she enticed, “there are hot dogs at the alumni tent.” Odysseus and Aeolus followed Circe down the long path to the tents of the alumni forces, where they stayed with their women and children. There, they found free giveaways, carnival games, and, indeed, hot dogs–if you paid the fee. After indulging, Aeolus wondered aloud if the great Homecoming Competition had already begun.
Aeolus and Odysseus fled to the Stadium–the game had begun, and was already more than a quarter underway.
“We are ahead!” Aeolus cheered, for true: the Lions were winning. They watched the competition with great delight, as well as moments of confusion (“What does the yellow flag mean?” “Did Tom Callahan ever get in trouble?” “Should I not be clapping right now?” “Did the announcer just say ‘Chad Washington?'” “How many points is a touchdown?” “Are they seriously promoting a Twitter hashtag for the football team after last spring?”)
“We should leave before we start losing…” Aeolus trailed off. The journeyers’ spirits dropped as the Lions dropped the ball and lost their lead. “My high school games are better than this,” Odysseus heard one spectator say. Had they left, though, the great reunion between Odysseus and Penelope would have been forever lost to fate.
While the rest of the spectators sat in diminished sadness–their disguises as “sports fans with school spirit” falling with increasing disillusionment–Penelope arose. Odysseus espied his lost love.
“Penelope!” Odysseus shouted. She turned and their eyes caught in this magic moment.
“There you are!” Penelope grinned.
“What?” Odysseus replied. “I can’t hear you!”
“What?” Penelope echoed.
“I’m leaving at halftime, this is boring,” sang Odysseus.
“Same!” Penelope’s voice flew on the wind.
And so they both sat and awaited the muses to indicate that they had stayed long enough, before returning on their vessel to the land of Alma, where, finally, the travelers napped.