If you were at the last football game, or anywhere near a phone, television or frat this weekend, you’re probably familiar with Cal’s starting quarterback (and undercover Olympic gymnast) Ross Bowers front-flipping into a touchdown. This secured an upset against the No. 8 team, Washington State. Since the game, you’ve most likely rewatched the play several times until your phone went dead, and you’ve been calling it “The Play” (warning: Don’t do this in front of any Cal alum, ever). Trust us, we at the Clog are still in awe too. So move out of the way, Simone Biles, because we’ve been dreaming all weekend of doing the “Ross Bowers” instead and flipping over our haters. We still can’t do a flip (let alone walk without tripping over our own feet), but if we could, here are the things we wish we could front-flip over.
The line at Crossroads
Calling all freshmen — you know what we’re getting at here. It’s a huge bummer that there’s no such thing as a front-of-the-line pass at Croads, especially when you’ve been out on campus all day in class and then have to stand outside and experience Berkeley’s nonsensical weather for so long that the dining hall has already closed. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could just unsuspectingly front-flip over all of our classmates and yell, “See ya later, suckers?” We think so too.
We have yet to meet someone who hates those pesky flierers on Sproul more than we do. Life would be so much easier (and much less of a literal obstacle course) if we could simply “Ross Bowers” over the enormous barrage of consulting club representatives asking us if we’re interested in business.
That person walking straight at you that you’re about to do ten million double-takes with
If you’re as awkward as all of us here at the Clog, you know exactly what we’re talking about. When you’re walking in the exact same path as another person heading towards you, someone’s gotta give. But more than 200 percent of the time, this simply isn’t the case. Chances are, you either ram your shoulder straight into the other person or step the exact same way as them, then back the other way along with them, then repeat the process five times over until you give up and want to crawl inside your backpack. We could save ourselves a lot of embarrassment if we could just front-flip over these people and avoid interaction altogether.
Following a similar notion, we’d encounter far less stressful and embarrassing situations if we could avoid the people we’ve had uncomfortable romantic encounters with. Whether it be the game-day hookup whose name you still don’t know or a long-term ex-partner, we could only dream of having Ross Bowers’ ability to flip over whoever he chooses. For now though, we’re stuck with the obvious dodging/using our phone/turning around to talk to another stranger tactics.
If you’re a quintessential UC Berkeley student, you’re probably unaware of the existence of crosswalks and their stop signs. But never fear, because Ross Bowers powers are here. Never again will you have to experience one of those millisecond-long heart attacks in which you realize that you were almost slammed several feet into the air by a car because you didn’t bother to look up at the crosswalk sign (or at the street, for that matter). Simply avoid looking both ways and front-flip over the crosswalk (or any area of the street) instead.
The waitlist for that class we really want to get into
We know this isn’t physically possible (A. We’re not Ross Bowers and B. class waitlists are virtual), but we’d love to finally get into the class of our dreams. This could be accomplished by being a badass and flipping over all of those little suckers to get the No. 1 spot on the waitlist. For now, we’ll just have to wait it out in misery until five weeks into the class when we’ll probably be dropped. Sad!
The fence to the chancellor’s house
While we don’t really want to disturb Chancellor Christ, we’re still yearning to see the home of the one and the only former chancellor Nicholas Dirks. This way, we’ll finally be able to find that stash of missing public funds as we explore the tunnels and trap doors that Dirks inevitably used to get away with his tomfoolery. Maybe we’ll find one of his famous old mustaches or unibrows hanging around that he forgot to clean up. One can dream.
Dear Ross Bowers,
If you’re reading this, please teach us your ways. We’re still in awe of your skills and wish we could use it in our everyday lives.
The Clog (and all other UC Berkeley students, for that matter!)
Contact Chloe Lelchuk at [email protected].