The most fun I had in college—or at least the most fun I’m willing to divulge on the internet—was on Dec. 11, 2010, fewer than four months into my freshman year at Fordham University. The men’s basketball team won a combined five games over the previous two seasons, but the Rams were the hottest ticket in New York City that night. The St. John’s Red Storm, Fordham’s much more successful quote-unquote rival, were visiting the Bronx for the first time in 10 years. Walking around campus hours before game time, there were already plenty of older Rams and Johnnies fans approaching students and asking them in their outer-borough accents if they were willing to part with their tickets to the game. The game was sold out, and the only chance of getting in was to hope one of the kids would accept some beer money in exchange for their spot in the student section.
The 3,200 fans lucky enough to be in Rose Hill Gym that night were treated to a thriller. St. John’s led by 12 at halftime and stretched its advantage to 21 early in the second half. Then the collapse began. Buoyed by a raucous home crowd, Fordham had two separate 16–0 runs to dig out of that massive hole and hung on to win, 84–81. After the buzzer sounded, we flooded out of the student section and onto the court.
