Homecoming offers an opportunity to change perspectives about the Columbia football program.
Reflections on reflections.
How do we define what it means to be a New Yorker?
More students ought to ensure that their writing enters a public forum.
My tenure as one of Spectator’s sports editors is officially over—don’t worry, I’ll save the emotions and the majority of the thank yous (there are more than a few) for Apr. 30—and I’ve seen, learned, and heard a tremendous amount about Columbia athletics.
I’d just like to see someone with some confidence and a strong will. Someone who knows it’s not going to be easy, but still has the internal drive to see the X’s and O’s he comes up with on the chalkboard work well on the field.
As the semester winds down, Columbia football ends its season, and we all head into the last few weeks of the fall semester after a much-needed break, it seems appropriate to reflect on how sports play into one of the United States’ favorite holidays: Thanksgiving.
This past weekend contained by far the most hectic and intense experiences I have had as a Columbia sports fan. I made my voice heard across the Northeast, from the back row of Gampel Pavilion in Storrs, Conn. to the freezing bleachers of Cornell soccer’s Berman Field in Ithaca.
I hate when sports drive a dagger into my heart. I hate when soccer, the beautiful game, leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
Major League Baseball had one of its greatest months ever. With the introduction of more playoffs, such drama could unfold in the Ivy League as well.
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