College football fans are not normal people. We’re a little odd. A little strange. Hard for most common folk to comprehend. Every Saturday for 3 months out of the year, we are absolutely locked in on 30+ games. Sure, you can explain the passion for your alma mater. But why in the blue hell are you glued to the screen at 11 PM EST watching San Jose State and Fresno State duke it out? Why do you spend your Tuesday’s watching what’s essentially beer league football? Why are you so obsessed with a freaking bucket? Hard to explain. Hard conversation to have at the Thanksgiving table. It’s equally hard to explain exactly why a fine Catholic university in Indiana with an upstanding tradition of smash-mouth football competes with the flashy elite of Southern California in an annual contest over a glorified stick. But better than explaining it to the naysayers - just sit them down and let them watch. Let them feel something primal. Feel something biblical. Feel something that defies explanation. Is it because of the money? Is it because of the temperate climate? Is it tradition or pride or glory or glamour or love or hate? It’s all of that and more. It’s college football. Irish. Trojans. This is the tale of the Jeweled Shillelagh.