An essay about Northwestern/Akron, running and being in America.
I. The Game
I can hear the PA announcer loud and clear from almost exactly a mile away. In Ryan Field, despite a sparse crowd and plenty of neighbors who make noise complaints, the sound system is, as they say, “jacked up to 11” and can be heard loud and clear in a rather impressive blast radius. I’m not at the game because I wake up at 4 a.m. the next morning.
“FINAL SCORE: Akron 39, Northwestern 34” the PA announcer says. The screech rings through the deserted streets near Northwestern’s pristine campus.