Why Tempe Still Burns Hotter
There’s a particular brand of hatred that only thrives in 110-degree heat. It’s the kind that simmers all year, waiting for one November Saturday when the entire state of Arizona collectively loses its god damned mind.
This is Duel in the Desert. This is where air conditioning is a luxury, trash talk is a birthright and the Territorial Cup is the only trophy that matters.
This isn’t just football. It’s desert warfare.
Since 1899, Arizona and Arizona State have been locked in one of college football’s most underrated blood feuds. Sure, it doesn’t get the same ESPN slobber as Ohio State-Michigan or Alabama-Auburn, but anyone who’s spent a rivalry week in Tempe or Tucson knows: this one hits different. It’s personal. It’s petty. And it’s perfect.
The Origins: When Hate Was Still Polite
The Territorial Cup itself predates Arizona’s statehood. Think about that. These schools were battling it out before Arizona was even a state. The trophy — a literal copper cup — was first awarded in 1899, making it one of the oldest rivalry trophies in college football. For context, that’s older than the forward pass. Older than the NFL. Older than anyone’s great-great-grandfather’s opinion on who has the better campus.
The Cup disappeared for decades (rumor has it someone’s drunk uncle pawned it in the ’40s), but when it resurfaced in the ’80s, the hatred came roaring back. These days, it lives in either Tempe or Tucson, depending on who remembered to show up in November.
The Fans: Forks, Wildcats and Unresolved Therapy
Let’s talk fan bases, because they’re the real stars of this show.
Arizona State fans treat their Sun Devil persona like a lifestyle brand. Everything is maroon and gold. Everything is loud. Everything involves either a pitchfork or a party. ASU students have perfected the art of looking like they just walked off a Spring Break ad while simultaneously caring way too muchabout a football game. They’ll tell you Tempe is the superior city, that their stadium atmosphere is unmatched (debatable) and that Tucson is just a slower, sadder version of Phoenix (now we’re talking).
Then you’ve got Arizona fans. Wildcats who treat this rivalry like a personal vendetta wrapped in a cactus. They’ll remind you that U of A is the state’s flagship university, that their academics are superior and that Tempe smells like desperation and Red Bull (that might check out actually). Arizona fans have this chip-on-the-shoulder energy that comes from being the team everyone underestimates. They live for the upset. They thrive in chaos.
And when these two sides collide? It’s like watching your cousins argue at Thanksgiving, except someone’s holding a pitchfork and someone else is doing a “Bear Down” chant in a Chili’s parking lot.
The Games That Made It Personal
Every rivalry has that game. The one people still argue about at barbecues. The one that gets brought up every single time someone says “remember when.”
For Arizona-ASU, there are a few.
1996: The Plummer Game
Jake “The Snake” Plummer led ASU to an undefeated season and a Rose Bowl berth, but not before crushing Arizona in the process. Wildcats fans still haven’t forgiven Tempe for that one. It was the game that reminded everyone: when ASU is good, they’re really good. And really insufferable.
2014: The Anu Solomon Shootout
A back-and-forth thriller that ended with Arizona winning 42-35. It had everything: dramatic throws, questionable penalties and fans from both sides losing their voices by halftime. This was the kind of game that makes people miss work the next day — not because they’re hungover, but because they’re just emotionally drained.
2022: The Upset Special
Arizona wasn’t supposed to win. ASU was favored. But the Wildcats rolled into Tempe and took the Cup. Cue the meltdowns. Cue the Reddit threads. Cue ASU fans blaming everything from the refs to the alignment of Venus. Arizona fans? They’re still dining out on that one.
The Trash Talk: An Art Form
If you want to understand this rivalry, you have to understand the language.
Arizona State fans will tell you that Tucson is “just a rest stop with a university.” Arizona fans will counter that Tempe is “just Scottsdale’s little brother with a better party school reputation and worse decision-making.”
The insults are surgical. The banter is relentless. And the best part? Both sides think they’re winning.
You’ll hear chants like:
- “Forks Up” (ASU’s go-to war cry)
- “Bear Down, Fork ‘Em” (Arizona’s counter-punch)
- “Tucson is for cacti and sadness” (ASU fan creativity)
- “Tempe is just Phoenix’s parking lot” (Arizona’s geographic burn)
It’s a little like Shakespeare, if Shakespeare wrote his plays in a sports bar at 1 a.m.
Why This Rivalry Still Matters
In an era of super conferences and playoff expansion, some people wonder if regional rivalries still have the same bite. Do they still matter when everyone’s chasing a national title? Yes.
Because rivalries like Arizona-ASU aren’t about the College Football Playoff. They’re about state pride. They’re about proving you’re better than the people who live 100 miles away and somehow think they’re superior. They’re about the group chat that goes silent for a week after a loss. They’re about Thanksgiving dinners that get awkward because someone wore the wrong colors.
This is the game where stats don’t matter. Rankings don’t matter. All that matters is who wants it more. Nobody remembers who won last season. They just remember who ran their mouth louder. And in the desert, that’s all the legacy you need.
The Territorial Cup will be won and lost. Players will graduate. Coaches will get fired or poached. But this rivalry? It’s not going anywhere.
It’ll keep burning hotter than a July afternoon in Phoenix. It’ll keep dividing friends, families and anyone dumb enough to wear the wrong jersey to the wrong bar. And it’ll keep reminding us why college football still matters — because some games aren’t just games.
So whether you’re a Sun Devil ready to raise hell or a Wildcat ready to bear down, know this: Lucky Rebel Club sees you. We get it. We’re fueling the fire, pouring the drinks and making sure every November, this rivalry gets the respect it deserves at our Lucky Rebel Club Rivalry Tour.
Because rivalry never felt so good.
