Poo on Woo!
Aubrey Herbst
Issue date: 2/15/07 Section: Columns
A horribly sour stench wafted up through Wittenberg's small section throughout the entire basketball game. Literally it was because I had the unfortunate seat behind someone who probably had Chipotle for dinner; but figuratively I prefer to think it was because of the Wooster fans on the other side of the gym.
Shoulder-to-shoulder body heat welcomed students as they attempted to find a place to stand in the small section allotted Wittenberg fans. "Black out Witt," ricocheted around the basketball gym as the fans awaited the teams' appearances. Not only were the Wittenberg fans forced to cram into two small seating sections, but we were inundated with "Shit on Witt" chants, stuffed hanging tigers, and cheerleaders with fake hair.
Since there was practically no room for the Wittenberg fans, we had to make new rows for ourselves. People not only stood where your feet go, but also on the seats, which made it impossible to sit down. It's not that the Wittenberg turnout was exceptional; there just wasn't any room for us. I think the Wooster fans felt that they needed to cram us all into the corner. That way they could attempt to appear more overwhelming. Too bad, it intimidated no one.
In my opinion, Wooster knew that they needed all the distractions they could think of to help them win the game. They all showed up wearing black. Good job, fans; way to coordinate. They strung up a little stuffed animal. The little tiger was adorable. Cheerleaders tossed each other in the air only to fall back down. And we all stood during the half time presentation anticipating the loss of one cheerleader's large, curly, fake hair piece.
None of this, however, had anything to do with the wonderful display of athleticism on the basketball court: Wooster's half time dance team. The girls kicked and shook and spread what their mothers gave them. Blessed or not so blessed, they showed us they were endowed.
I'd like to commend the Wittenberg fans for our class. We didn't have to match, hang animals, or spread our crowd out throughout the gym to look bigger. All we had to do was show up to watch our friends win. So maybe we threw in some hard core screaming in the heat of the game, but we cheered for our team, not at the others' crowd.
Some would attempt to call the tension between Witt and Wooster a friendly rivalry, but at the end of the game when your athletic director attempts to start a chant, "That's alright, that's okay, you're going to work for us someday," you can't help but laugh and know that it runs just slightly deeper than friendly.
At the end of the day, we've got the class. They might chant, "Shit on Witt," but in our own humor, "Poo on Woo."
Shoulder-to-shoulder body heat welcomed students as they attempted to find a place to stand in the small section allotted Wittenberg fans. "Black out Witt," ricocheted around the basketball gym as the fans awaited the teams' appearances. Not only were the Wittenberg fans forced to cram into two small seating sections, but we were inundated with "Shit on Witt" chants, stuffed hanging tigers, and cheerleaders with fake hair.
Since there was practically no room for the Wittenberg fans, we had to make new rows for ourselves. People not only stood where your feet go, but also on the seats, which made it impossible to sit down. It's not that the Wittenberg turnout was exceptional; there just wasn't any room for us. I think the Wooster fans felt that they needed to cram us all into the corner. That way they could attempt to appear more overwhelming. Too bad, it intimidated no one.
In my opinion, Wooster knew that they needed all the distractions they could think of to help them win the game. They all showed up wearing black. Good job, fans; way to coordinate. They strung up a little stuffed animal. The little tiger was adorable. Cheerleaders tossed each other in the air only to fall back down. And we all stood during the half time presentation anticipating the loss of one cheerleader's large, curly, fake hair piece.
None of this, however, had anything to do with the wonderful display of athleticism on the basketball court: Wooster's half time dance team. The girls kicked and shook and spread what their mothers gave them. Blessed or not so blessed, they showed us they were endowed.
I'd like to commend the Wittenberg fans for our class. We didn't have to match, hang animals, or spread our crowd out throughout the gym to look bigger. All we had to do was show up to watch our friends win. So maybe we threw in some hard core screaming in the heat of the game, but we cheered for our team, not at the others' crowd.
Some would attempt to call the tension between Witt and Wooster a friendly rivalry, but at the end of the game when your athletic director attempts to start a chant, "That's alright, that's okay, you're going to work for us someday," you can't help but laugh and know that it runs just slightly deeper than friendly.
At the end of the day, we've got the class. They might chant, "Shit on Witt," but in our own humor, "Poo on Woo."
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