By Nick Kucholtz | Contributor
Last Tuesday, I pulled on a pair of well-worn sneakers and took a jog around the University of Texas campus, a place that holds a special significance for me.
The usual throngs of students bustling along Speedway were absent. There were no noisy buses passing by DKR. Nobody was climbing the steps in front of the Tower. Not even a single bird was chirping.
The silence was profound throughout my entire run.
Now I find myself regretting every complaint I ever made about the campus being overcrowded.
I had always envisioned a storybook conclusion to my four-year journey at UT.
This, however, was not the resolution I anticipated.
I learned the Eyes of Texas long before I grasped my ABCs, and I knew the seating capacity of Darrell K Royal – Texas Memorial Stadium before I could lace up my shoes.
From my very first day of kindergarten through to my graduation at Wakeland High School in Frisco, I wore burnt orange nearly every day. My friends can confirm that.
I missed three of my four high school homecomings just to catch Texas football games on TV. During the one homecoming I did attend, I abandoned my date to sneak off and watch the game in the lobby. Sorry, Mariah.
On February 19, 2016, just six months after sending in my application to the University of Texas, I claimed my seat at UFCU Disch-Falk Field for another season opener for the Texas Longhorns baseball team. During that game, I received an email from UT. I knew instantly what it was.
While I can’t recall a single pitch after that moment, I do remember that the game ended in a loss. Under normal circumstances, this would have triggered my frustration, but that day was different. Even if we lost 100-0, I would have worn a huge smile.
Later that night, my Dad kept reiterating how proud he was of me. I couldn’t get any sleep because I was overwhelmed with a mix of joy and tears.
I had achieved my lifelong dream. I was on my way to becoming a Texas Longhorn.
The last three and a half years have been the highlight of my life. I formed bonds with remarkable individuals from around the globe and soaked in the vibrant spirit of the university and city.
Every day, I admired the iconic UT Tower on my walk to class. I joined over 100,000 fans to cheer on my team every Saturday. I interned with the Longhorn Network, covering extraordinary sporting events. I had the privilege of studying at one of the nation’s top journalism schools—though, I must admit, I could have done more studying.
And yes, I certainly spent my share of time and funds on Sixth Street.
I truly lived my dream.
But now it’s all come to an end. Just like that. And it stings.
Nearly all my friends have returned to their hometowns, but I refuse to follow suit. It still feels too soon to say goodbye.
While there are far greater issues in the world right now, it’s a heavy reality to come to terms with this unexpected conclusion.
Our graduation will take place on a laptop. We didn’t get the chance to bid farewell to our friends and professors. There won’t be any more games to attend as students.
Yet, I take solace in the cherished memories created at what I consider the best university in the world. Regardless of how tragic this abrupt ending feels, I will forever be grateful for the experiences I’ve had.
Hook ‘Em – always and forever.
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 originally published in the Austin American-Statesman.
