By Nick Kucholtz | Contributor
Last Tuesday, I slipped into a pair of worn tennis shoes and took off for a jog around the University of Texas campus, which I hold dear.
The scene was starkly different from what I had grown accustomed to. There were no throngs of students filling Speedway, no loud buses bustling past DKR, and the iconic Tower steps were devoid of any climbers. Even the usual chorus of chirping birds was absent.
It was an eerie silence that enveloped me for the entirety of my run.
In hindsight, I regret every moment I grumbled about the crowded campus.
In my imagination, my four years at UT always culminated in a grand finale.
However, this was not that finale.
I could sing the Eyes of Texas before I even knew my ABCs, and I learned the seating capacity of Darrell K Royal – Texas Memorial Stadium before I could lace my shoes.
From the first day I entered kindergarten until my graduation from Wakeland High School in Frisco, I donned burnt orange nearly every day, and my friends can attest to that.
I skipped three out of four homecoming dances in high school to catch a Texas football game on TV. At the only one I attended, I left my date in the lobby to watch the game. Sorry again, Mariah.
On February 19, 2016, six months after submitting my application to the University of Texas, I settled into my seat at UFCU Disch-Falk Field for yet another opening day for Texas Longhorns baseball. While at the game, I received an email from UT, and I instantly recognized its significance.
I can’t recall a single play after that moment, but I remember that we lost. Typically, a Texas team’s loss would frustrate me, but that day was different. Even a score of 100-0 wouldn’t have dampened my spirits.
That evening, my Dad repeatedly expressed how proud he was of me. I was unable to sleep that night, flooded with joy and tears.
Finally, I had achieved my lifelong dream. I was officially a Texas Longhorn.
The last three and a half years have been the highlight of my life. I encountered remarkable individuals from around the globe and experienced the beauty of an exceptional university and city.
Every day on my way to class, I admired the stunning UT Tower. On weekends, I celebrated alongside over 100,000 fans in jubilant roars. I interned with the Longhorn Network, covering thrilling sporting events, and I studied at one of the nation’s top journalism schools—though I must admit, I could have been more diligent in my studies.
And yes, I dedicated a fair amount of time (and money) to exploring Sixth Street.
I truly lived my dream.
But now, it has all come to a sudden end. The realization is painful.
Most of my friends have returned to their hometowns, but I don’t want to leave yet. I’m just not ready to say farewell.
With much more significant issues unfolding in the world today, it’s difficult to reconcile this unexpected conclusion.
We’ll be graduating via laptop, having missed the opportunity to say goodbye to friends and professors, and we won’t attend any more games as students.
Yet, I take solace in the memories we’ve created at the premier university. No matter how distressing this abrupt conclusion may be, my gratitude for those experiences will always remain.
Hook ’Em – for eternity.
Editor’s Note: Kucholtz graduated on May 23, 2020, from the University of Texas with a Bachelor of Arts Degree in Journalism. Congratulations, Nick!
This article was initially published in the Austin American-Statesman.
