Well, if I cared enough to have a customized license plate, it might just have the Vanderbilt logo and the Lipscomb logo side by side. Not because I have a wife who's a Lipscomb fan. No, that would require having a wife, which would require having a girlfriend in recent history. Strikes one and two respectively.
You see, I am a Vandy fan by choice while being a Lipscomb fan by… well… birth, I guess. It's the age-old argument of nature vs. nurture. I go to Commodore sporting events because they are the best team in the area, and, over the years, I have become a Vanderbilt fan and follower. Meanwhile, back at the fort, I am a student at Lipscomb and have been around the campus for my entire life, and know most of the athletes. So it's not really nature vs. nurture, but you get the point. It's more like those characters you see on television that have the devil and the angel on opposing shoulders. I guess I've got a large, furry, hoofed mammal on one shoulder and a well-dressed sailor on the other. What if they had one of those conversations where they argued with each other from shoulder to shoulder, around my head? …Hmm
Commodore: "You're from Lipscomb, yes?"
Bison: "Yep, the school that you haven't beaten in over 50 years."
Commodore: "Needless to say, we haven't played in over 50 years."
Bison: "That may be, but we will still roll into Memorial riding the coattails of a 50 year unbeaten streak."
Commodore: "When you say ‘we' you mean the Bison?"
Bison: "The Bisons, yes."
Commodore: "You do realize you just invented a word."
Bison: "No, I am simply using our mascot in the plural form."
Commodore: "Yeah well, your plural form gets that little red squiggly line under it when you type it."
Bison: "Ok, let's back off the grammar, and focus on the game."
Commodore: "Alright, let's. We put up a hundred spot on one of your A-Sun teams last night."
Bison: "So what are you claiming? That you're 1-0 in the SEC – A-Sun Challenge? This game can take our record to 2-0 in Nashville."
Commodore: "So this game is a fight for Nashville?"
Bison: "Sure is. Loser goes home."
Commodore: "Loser is home, or at least 10 minutes away from it."
Bison: "Alright, so fight for Nashville."
Commodore: "Fair enough. Game on. Stand up and clap until tip."
That's just this man's mental image of the mascots on my shoulder. Maybe if they were real, the conversation would go differently. Maybe it wouldn't. We'll never know. Well, at least you'll never know. And if it happens to me, no one would believe me anyway, so this entire effort has just been deemed extraneous. If you want a final call on who I am rooting for I have a multi-faceted answer for you: Firstly, you really have a problem if you care who I root for in a college basketball game, and, secondly, I don't really know who I'm going to root for so I'll take the high road and say I want both teams to play well and for it to be a safe game. What a cop out.