ble full of Kiwi cooks or sultry afternoons on B

NEW YORK -- Kevin Anderson was 28-of-33 passing for 426 yards and three touchdowns, Chase Edmonds rushed for four scores and Fordham beat Holy Cross 54-14 on Saturday in the battle for the Ram-Crusader Cup at Yankee Stadium.Edmonds third rushing score of the day set the Patriot League record for career rushing touchdowns and he added to it with his 59th.Edmonds, a junior, carried it 23 times for 119 yards -- his seventh 100-plus-yard game of the year -- and he had seven catches for 77 yards -- both career highs -- for Fordham (7-3, 4-1). Wide receiver Corey Caddle passed for a 27-yard touchdown and Austin Longi caught seven passes for 123 yards and a touchdown. Robbie Cantelli, Isaiah Searight and Jorge Solano all scored on TD grabs.Geoff Wade threw for 307 yards and one touchdown for Holy Cross (4-7, 2-4). Diquan Walker rushed for a touchdown, but the Crusaders were held to minus-5 yards rushing on 19 carries. Patrick Patterson Jersey . 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Surfing, for me, was a consuming, urgent lust that wouldnt fade until it was consummated, at a rustic surf camp in California. Never mind that I was 15 and from a landlocked Boston suburb where, I later learned, being a surfer is synonymous with masochism. Never mind that I had yet to meet anyone who surfed. Or that Id had to take my lifeguarding test twice.As soon as I saw that surfer gliding across a tiny Cape Cod wave, there was no turning back.What I didnt know was that the sport would become a kind of passport, pain point and calling card all in one. I couldnt have imagined that, 20 years later, it would be a gateway to both my dream career and a contested space, where Id be alternately glowing in the embrace of a global family and struggling to find where I fit in.When summer came around again, I took all my babysitting money and some of my moms air miles and landed at a surf school in San Clemente, California, a wave-centric town where the flames of my passion grew to new heights. To some, San Clemente is known as the moneyed village where President Richard Nixon retired. To me, it was a magical land where parents drove Volkswagen buses piled high with boards; kids had golden-brown skin and sun-bleached hair; and the air smelled of campfires and eucalyptus.My first wave, however, was far from divine. It was at a heavy shorebreak -- no fun for neophytes -- and on my first ride I washed up on the sand into a spray of pebbles, with my polka dot bikini top around my waist. Far from the ecstasy that imbues most surfers first times, I had my doubts. Was this going to be as bad as the torment of gym class?But after a few sessions at a gentler spot, I actually got the hang of it. My bikini stayed on. I made friends. I got tan. And I felt strong and beautiful and free. Thats no small thing when youre sporting glasses, braces and pubertys effects all in one awkward bundle. Nothing made me feel as good as surfing and, whatever markings of adolescence I might have had on the outside, on the inside I was starting to become a more confident girl.The week in San Clemente -- caamping on the bluff, surfing three times a day and eating hot dogs under the stars -- felt like a year.dddddddddddd In fact, it changed my life. I returned to the camp the next summer, this time as a counselor, and bought my first board (a terrible, paper-thin choice for a beginner). Between family ski trips and school breaks, I spent winter weekends watching every surf movie I could find, dreaming of sunnier climes and sparkling seas.After four years of college in New York City, where I still clung to my ocean-bound love, I wanted to see what building a life around surfing would look like. I moved to Bondi Beach in Sydney, still seedy in parts and bustling with expats. We waited tables and cooked brekkies for hungover Brits, and saved up for camper vans and surfaris. In truth, my surfing didnt get much better, but my ideas about how to live definitely were.Yet for all the enviable evenings at open-air restaurants with a table full of Kiwi cooks or sultry afternoons on Bondis crowded beach, what I didnt resolve was how to dive into adulthood without abandoning my passion. It seemed easy for Aussies with leathery skin and scruffy beards. But it wasnt like that for me.For a while, I resented surfing because it complicated life choices. Where I was from, women became lawyers, doctors and academics -- jobs with educational distinction and clear career paths. But I knew there had to be a way to do both -- to have my sun-splashed Saturdays in the waves, and work at something I loved during the week.The big caveat, of course, is that its not all perfect: Ive hit major stumbling blocks on land and, yes, Im still scared of getting pounded in the water, pebbles or not. But this summer, after an intense few years of learning the ropes and working nonstop, Im surfing regularly again -- not big waves and not heavy shorebreaks, but paddling out nonetheless. In essence, its a surfing life on my own terms, in a way that feels strong and beautiful and free. ' ' '