It’s September. The first winds of fall are in the air, and college students nationwide awaken every Saturday with dreams of victory in their hearts. They leave their dorms and run across campus in a beautiful mass of school spirit until they reach their campus’ football stadium, where they join their peers at tailgates, forming lifelong friendships and memories as the smell of burgers and hot dogs fill the air.

Meanwhile, your pioneering On Fire correspondent is joining his fellow Emory students in making a similar coming-of-age trek across campus: the Saturday evening stroll from Harris Hall to the legendary “KOLLEGE” party. It’s esteemed traditions like these, formed across centuries, that make Emory a bastion for collegiate tradition and pride.

“But you’ve never experienced a gorgeous early-autumn afternoon in Michigan’s ‘Big House!’” you cry.

Your sagacious On Fire correspondent smiles and responds: “Ah, but have you ever strolled from the hallowed halls of Emory’s Sigma Chi to the stunning green lawns of Alpha Tau Omega, watching 150-pound white dudes in Chubbies throw a frisbee to the soaring melodies of Post Malone’s “Beerbongs and Bentleys,” while they repeatedly glance across the street towards the sorority lodges?”

Yes, friends and disciples of On Fire, college football season has returned. And with it, students across the nation are teaming up to cheer on their comrades on the gridiron, and Emory students are doing the exact same things that they were doing last week, with slightly cooler weather.

Alas, 2018 marks the 182nd straight football-less year at Emory. But why should we let other schools steal all the spotlight? Emory, of course, is located in one of the nation’s most fertile recruiting areas. It has natural local rivals in Georgia State and Kennesaw State (Ga.). And, believe it or not, it is already home to some incredibly qualified footballers.

Contrary to popular sentiment, your stunningly athletic On Fire correspondent is not referring to himself or herself, though it has been rumored that he or she throws a mean spiral.

No, your cannon-armed On Fire correspondent refers instead to a number of promising players scattered throughout the Emory campus.

After all, who better to play quarterback than Dooley herself? The undead skeletal demon and part-time Emory mascot already has a built-in offensive line in her security guards. Some scouts have expressed concern about Dooley’s brittle bones not being able to stand up to hits in the pocket, but the whole “immortality” thing should help her withstand the rigors of a full college football season.

How about a head coach to lead the newly-minted Emory football team? There are too many choices to count. The best coaches are people who can make tough decisions — people who can evaluate the numbers in front of them and not be bogged down by any emotional connections — aka the entire Emory administration.

Emory infamously cut their journalism, education and visual arts programs in 2012, which left a sea of students alone and rudderless and sounded the death knell on a few of Emory’s finest programs. But your economically savvy On Fire correspondent applauds the administration for its foresight and inability to let things like “the interest of its students” and “campus-wide protests” stop them from ensuring that more money is funneled into the Goizueta Business School.

The proof is in the numbers, after all. Since the school-wide cuts in 2012, Goizueta has skyrocketed from 19th in the U.S. News and World Report rankings all the way to … 21st.

When reached for comment, Emory’s head football coach reportedly blamed SEC bias.