Editor’s Note: As we say goodbye, remember our roots and progress

By Zack Rosenfeld
Editor-in-Chief

As my dad and I walked out of the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum on Nov. 26, we looked at each other with the realization that a part of me had just vanished.

The UCLA Bruins had just been decimated by the USC Trojans by a score of 50-0, and although I have witnessed only one Bruin victory over the Trojans in the eight cross-town rivalry games I have attended, this one hurt the most.

I have grown up in a family of Bruins that dates back to my great-grandmother graduating from one of the first classes of the same school where my mother and father met. I was born a Bruin.

Growing up, I would attend UCLA sporting events that ranged from basketball games at the historic Pauley Pavilion to football games in the blazing heat of the Rose Bowl. At each game we would tailgate with about 15 of my dad’s fraternity friends and their children that I essentially grew up with.

On weekends my parents would drive me out to my grandmother’s place in Westwood where she would take my sister and me to the same restaurants my mother and father frequented during their time at school and get donuts for breakfast from the famous “Stan’s Donuts.” A large part of my childhood was my time in the neighborhood of Westwood.

As time went on, I began to learn how to act as a winner and a loser, due to the ups and downs of Bruin athletics, which translated into my everyday life.

Since the days of my ultimate Bruin fandom, what used to be my great memories associated with this university slowly faded with lower tailgate attendance, no more Westwood excursions with my grandmother and depressing final scores.

Unfortunately my grandmother passed away and of the things she told me, her desire of mine was to work hard and to get into UCLA. Although it sounds sad, I am 18 years old now and ready to become my own person.

I do not feel as if I am letting anyone down in my family by not attending UCLA, and I have intentions of going on to another university and making it an experience of my own.

I even gloated about this to my dad as the Bruins were losing, but he said to me, “Zack, you will always be a Bruin no matter what you do.” So although a piece of me may have died that night, I will never forget where I came from. However, I know it is time for me to move on.