Connor Doyle

Everybody just calm down a minute about the fight between the Wildcats and the Sun Devils after Friday's game.

First of all, it wasn't as bad as it looked. I know - I was in the middle of the damn thing. It was a lot of shoving, a couple of thrown helmets and mostly language these guys would have used at the dinner table.

In fact, since no one was really hurt, I think it was a good thing. It would be nice to think these guys hate each other for a real reason.

These two schools suffer from a complete lack of identity, and a complete lack of reason for this rivalry.

The other rivalries in college football have a common thread - history. History of success for the programs on an individual basis, and more importantly history in the rivalry games.

The rivalry between Alabama and Auburn, the Iron Bowl, was called off for more than 40 years because of a dispute between the coaches over per diems for players' lodging totaling $34. When the games were actually played, the violence in the stands rivaled the brawls on the field. Family members won't speak to each other when the annual game rolls around, and it has nothing to do with improper relations between second cousins. The rivalry is real because the fans and the players spend the entire season thinking about nothing other than that one game.

The Red River Shootout, played annually between Texas and Oklahoma, is another example of a game transcending football. The contest, played every year at the neutral Cotton Bowl in Dallas (the city is equidistant between the two schools) is played for the supposed ownership of the Red River. The teams really do approach this game as being as important, if not more, than a National Championship. Former OU defensive coordinator Larry Lacewell summed up the Sooners' attitude toward the rivalry, saying "everything we do in our program is in answer to the underlying question: will it help us beat Texas?"

There are countless more rivalries that define the landscape of college football - USC-Notre Dame, Ole Miss-Mississippi State and Michigan-Ohio State, among others - and all of them involve deep-seated, historical and often Neanderthal approach to the importance of the game in the grand scheme of life.

Arizona-ASU isn't anywhere close to that.

Want proof? There weren't more than 1,000 Arizona fans at Sun Devil Stadium Friday. Of those there, "sedate" would perhaps be the best way to describe their demeanor.

Now, it's not our fault. Arizona's a basketball school, and Arizona State's claim to fame is being perennially named one of the top party schools in the nation by Playboy. Football isn't a religion here - hell, it's not even a viable Saturday night option for most of the students.

There's little history between these two schools besides the Territorial Cup, which no one has seen yet because it's too fragile to be picked up, and the Ben Goo trophy, once given to the winning team but now awarded to the game's most valuable player because it is so freaking ugly that coaches from the winning schools began to refuse it.

But there's hope after Friday's melee. Maybe next season, some of the players will remember the events and decide to raise the emotional stakes. Maybe Arizona State fans will come up with something more original than "MildCats" when taunting UA. Maybe a couple of frat houses will decide to ditch turkey at the grandparents' house and decide to stay in Tucson.

Who knows? Maybe 50 years from now, fans and alumni will recall "the big fight" between the teams as a reason they hate the other school so much.