Yes, you read that correctly. Our once-woeful Cardinal has officially reached national prominence, at least for a week. The team has the chance to prove itself on Saturday afternoon within the ear-splitting confines of the University of Oregon’s Autzen Stadium. ESPN College GameDay is going to be there. The entire country will be watching our football team try to make its Rose Bowl statement and potentially become a national-title contender in the process. Absolutely everyone here in our little slice of heaven cares about this game.

And it couldn’t infuriate me more.

I remember coming here as a freshman two years ago and nobody gave a shit about this team. Half of our current student body wasn’t even here that season. Now they can pretend to be fans all of a sudden? I bet they’d get lost trying to walk to Stanford Stadium.

Last year, I saw this whole bandwagon thing coming. Let me give you an analogy to help you understand my predicament. There’s this little band from France called Phoenix—only they’re not so little anymore. I’ve been listening to their pop jams for years. No one knew who they were, and I’d always be like, “Hey, check out this band called Phoenix. They’re great, I promise.” No one listened.

Then, in 2009, Phoenix put out this album called “Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix.” Boom. Pitchfork loves them, my friends love them, everybody loves them. They’re playing the main stage at Coachella and selling out Madison Square Garden. Somehow, my cries of “I told you so!” just got lost in the fray.

It was kind of the same thing with Stanford football. During the 2009 season, the Stanford football team was just like Phoenix. And Toby Gerhart was its “Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix.”

CS majors who only leave their rooms to go to the Lair started going to football games to see Toby. Sorority girls who don’t know the difference between a touchdown and a home run somehow started actively discussing Toby’s Heisman chances in between drink stations at progressives. Somewhere in the middle of his 1,871 yards of pure destruction, it seemed like Toby Gerhart singlehandedly made Stanford football cool again.

I couldn’t believe it. This was my team. I wanted to do my best Jim Harbaugh impression and scream, “What’s your deal?” to the entire campus.

The end of the 2009 season gave me hope. We did go 8-4 in the regular season, but we managed to lose our bowl game and Toby got robbed of the Heisman. I was disappointed, but I thought this rush of bad news might cause people to write off Stanford football like they did Kings of Leon when they put out “Only by the Night.” Only I forgot one crucial piece of information: Kings of Leon actually do suck. Stanford football doesn’t.

So here I am, staring at a 4-0 Cardinal football team in 2010 that somehow has once again captured the hearts and minds of this campus. There’s an overwhelming feeling here in our little bubble that this could be our year.

I’ll be watching on Sunday, cheering on my Cardinal with the rest of you—the sketchy grad students, the materials science nerds, and everyone in between. Normally, this would be a huge problem, but I’m ok with it now. This team is too great to keep to myself. I think it’s about time the whole country knew what Stanford football is all about.

Just remember one thing: I liked them first.

Want to talk football? Or are you just confused about the definition of satire? E-mail Shane at [email protected].