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Friendly family rivalry

Thanks to a friend, I had the opportunity to take the family to the Sunflower Showdown Saturday in Lawrence.

It's not any secret that Daughter #1 wears the purple and white, and wears it with pride. It's also not any secret that I consider myself a KU fan, win or lose. Dad and Daughter #2 somehow were persuaded to don the purple this weekend so that left me outnumbered.

Before leaving the house, each of us had to pass inspection with Daughter #1. All three of them wore K-State colors. I, on the other hand, wasn't allowed to leave the house in my nondescript shirt with a hint of blue. Being the family diplomat, I traded for a gray sweat shirt and got an OK to get in the car.

Little did they know I was the final friendly KU fan they would meet the rest of the day.

During a quick stop in Emporia, "KSU" and "Go State" magically appeared in white chalk on the side windows of the car. That gave the girls something to do on the trip up the Turnpike — wave at fellow K-Staters and make faces at passing KU fans.

Because the weather was warm, we parked at Allen Fieldhouse and walked to the stadium.

We almost lost the eldest child crossing the street. She evidently thought she was back on the Manhattan campus when she started across a busy street. Horns blared and shouts startled her enough to hurry across the intersection.

I smugly reminded her she wasn't just another pretty face in Lawrence — not with that purple jacket and big cat on the front.

On accident (I swear), we walked through a nest of KU tailgaters. Because I was walking three paces behind the rest of the family, they caught the brunt of the shouts and insults. I snickered quietly and kept my head down.

As we walked around the stadium waiting for the gates to open, the verbal abuse continued and the K-Staters gave as good as they got. Every fan was confident their team would be victorious.

I was concerned our seats would be amidst a bunch of KU fans. As we sat down, I looked around and noticed I was surrounded by purple. Eventually, a few crimson-and-blue shirts showed up and that evened the playing field in our section of the stadium.

It probably wasn't an accident that Daughter #1 and I got seated together. When the game began, so did the battle between mother and daughter. When she was up, I was down. When I was cheering and clapping, she was quiet. When she was doing that "Wabash Cannonball" thing, I pretended like I didn't know her.

She's not a big girl — weighs about a hundred pounds. But when she gets excited it's like sitting next to Mike Tyson — and I have the bruises to prove it.

Being a mature adult and somewhat reserved, I kept my cheering to a minimum. I'm proud to say I didn't pound on her, didn't jump up and down, didn't sit on her when I wanted her to be quiet, and didn't high-five the guy in front of me every time KU got the ball.

You can be sure when the final whistle blew and those goalposts came down I was as excited as the next person. "History in the making" I gloated.

Perhaps it was a good thing it was a night game. By the time we walked back to the car, it was too dark to discern purple from blue. Hmmm, I think Daughter #1 may have walked all the way back with her arms folded. Trying to hide that Wildcat?

— DONNA BERNHARDT

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