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A Love Letter To The Purdue Basketball Team

Dear Purdue Basketball,

We know it’s early, but – will you be our Valentine? If we were still stuck in our 6th grade emo phase, with choppy bangs and eyeliner down to our cheekbones, we’d say “rawr  <3” That means we love you in dinosaur. You’re the Rick to our Morty, the McDonald’s to our hangover. We’d let you have our first-born children, and probably the rest of our kids if the first one was ugly or something. Boys, we love you. Let us tell you why:

 

You gave us a new reason to Hail Purdue:

Brohm led us to our bowl victory, and there we all were, basketball season quickly approaching, worried that a good season in two sports was too much to ask of our “choke in the final minutes” Boilermakers. There wasn’t much we could do about the shit IU was talking until you came along and changed the game. You’re now ranked 3rd in the AP Top 25 Poll, something that you haven’t achieved in the 8 years it’s taken any Purdue engineer to get laid.

 

You make paying $42,000 a year worth it:

From having to listen to professors announce exam averages lower than 60% in Purdue math and science courses, to having to walk to classes that never get cancelled in -12 degree weather on sidewalks that haven’t been salted or plowed since ‘Nam, we find ourselves frequently questioning why we didn’t choose a liberal arts school on the west coast. And yet, despite the stress-crying and the frostbite we may or may not have on our lower extremities, we get to come home at the end of the basketball season and say, with confidence, that IU still sucks.

 

You give us a reason to drink – in a good way:

Ain’t no party like a victory party, and the victory parties don’t stop. It used to be that we only celebrated Jersey Tuesday one day a week, but now we can’t even seem to find the time to wash our jerseys between those sweet, sweet W’s that you keep bringin’ home. You keep winning, and we’ll keep drinking to your victories – even if it means our jerseys stay smelling like stale alcohol, nervous sweat, and the drool of our one-night-stands.

 

You kinda turn us on:

It doesn’t matter if we like guys, girls, or goats, there’s just something about the way you score those points that turns the game from your casual, kid-friendly, G-rated performance to something you’d find at your local Cirilla’s. And, since none of the engineers here are getting any action anyway, it’s nice for them to have something erotic in their lives. We just can’t help it – we love it when you get those sweet, sweaty wins.

So, as we close, we ask that you keep the streak going – 14 straight wins is good, but you know what’s better? 15. Then, when the time comes, a National Championship. We believe in you and we love you more than we love Famous Frank’s after a boozy Friday night.

Sincerely,

Your Admirers, The Boilermakers

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