College Football In a Zombie Apocalypse

Life isn’t as bad as you’d think living in a zombie apocalypse. At least so long as the zombies never figure out how to turn doorknobs.

Having reached the peak of advancement in the canned food realm has certainly helped. Chili in a can? Is this a zombie apocalypse or a zombie cookout?!

And even when we’re out and about, the zombies have very poor eyesight and almost no olfactory senses, so if we’re at least six feet away from one, we’re pretty safe.

Stores are still open and most people can still go to their jobs. We have all tried to settle in to our new normal.

Sports are back, which has been great. Nothing brightens up an apocalypse like sports. It’s even hard to complain about ESPN showing every Red Sox-Yankees game (but I still find a way).

The zombies can take a lot of things from us, but it has been great to see that they can’t take all of our sports from us.

And in reality, they probably shouldn’t have been able to take any big-time sports from us.

Every major sports team on our zombie-infested planet plays in a secure facility with doors upon doors. Ohio State’s football facility is equipped with biometric scanners to allow entrance. If you’re not in their database, you’re not unlocking a locked door.

And before they were shut down by the Big Ten, they tested twice a week to avoid something like zombie Justin Fields entering the building by sheer muscle memory and then wreaking havoc on the entire program.

And that never happened because the program was serious and secure. They tested. They observed the rules. Hell, they even threw some rules from the Gremlins in there. No food after midnight, no direct sunlight, and no showers in the building.

Things were going great and progressing towards football. Players were safe. The zombies were abated.

The Big Ten even put out a list of protocols for the programs to follow so that they would be relatively safe from the apocalypse.

Less than a week later, however, the Big Ten deemed that there was just no way these safe players in their secure facilities could play other teams from their own safe facilities without everybody becoming zombies.

Sure, traveling through our current hellscape for a road game could be hazardous, but the testing and the overall security should have been enough to keep things going.

Instead, the Big Ten’s universities decided that football just couldn’t be played without the threat of a zombie outbreak.

Their concerns seemed relatively shallow, however, when in the next week they opened their respective campuses to tens of thousands of students and zombies alike for the start of the semester.

“Unleash the zombies — we mean students!” the schools bellowed as they threw open their gates and invited the brain eating to commence.

Any safety and security that an empty campus provided before was now as dead and gone as the Big Ten’s football season.

Football — with its ample testing and rampant Lysoling — was said to be too dangerous, but a campus full of brain eating monsters was deemed to be the proper PR decision.

“What kind of university in the midst of a zombie apocalypse would we be if we didn’t have zombies in classrooms on campus? It would look like we didn’t take education seriously,” each school said.

So here were are. In one motion, football is canceled because it could somehow lead to an outbreak of zombies, while in the next motion, the universities blasted open their doors, chummed the campus sidewalks with brain matter that they weren’t going to use anyway, and called in the student zombies with no qualm or quail.

I guess the good thing about having an open campus during a zombie apocalypse is that you no longer have to test anybody because you just assume everybody now has the virus.

Plus, it makes things easier to grade for the professors when every 500-word essay handed in just has “brains!” written 500 times.

“It’s a little one note, Sheryl. Why not explore why brains are so important. Let us inside that parasitic mind of yours and really understand what brains mean to you. Sheryl, please stop smelling my skull, this is wildly inappropriate behavior!”

I have no doubt that the Big Ten’s member schools were worried about their student-athletes becoming infected and turning into flesh-hungry, murderous zombies.

You wouldn’t want to wish that kind of demise on your worst enemy.

Worst enemies no, but it’s okay for the regular student body, apparently.