Pep Rallies and Other Places I Don't Belong

A friend once told me that the definition of insanity is to keep doing the same thing over and over while expecting a different result. According to this definition, then, I’m insane.

This may not come as a surprise to some of my readers.

To me, though, I’m constantly surprised at the activities I repeatedly put myself through in the vain hope that maybe this time, things will be different.

In my high school days, I eschewed team sports. Before high school, I had played soccer as was required by law (isn’t it?) until 8th grade when the boys on the opposing team got too rough and grabby around the area between my neck and belly. I swam for the local swim team every summer and was generally pretty fit, but since I didn’t play sports for school, I wasn’t seen as particularly athletic.

Actually, I had tried out for the junior high soccer team. Title IX required the coach to allow girls to try out. None of us girls made the team, go figure. Instead, I was made a manager along with a pretty cheerleader, Mandy. I kept the team’s stats while Mandy generally smiled at the boys and twirled a pencil. One day while the boys were warming up for a game, I overheard a boy say to the team, “We have the prettiest managers of all the other teams.” My 13-year-old ears perked up at this until another boy said, “Yeah. And then there’s Bethany.”

Ouch.

But I kept my mouth shut and continued to take down stats. Needless to say, I didn’t try out for the team again, and the year following, I stopped playing soccer. After that, I was typically picked last for teams during gym class, and I lost any interest in sporting events.

My senior year in high school, though, I decided to turn over a new leaf. Instead of pooh poohing high school sports, I decided to support them.

As Principal McGee from Grease says: “If you can’t be an athlete, be an athletic supporter.”

So I decided to show my school spirit at our first pep rally. I took a bottle of bubbles and blew them into the crowd. The crowd had a great time and demanded I pass around the bubbles so that we could blow them in time with the marching band. It was all going great until the principal called me down in front of everyone and yelled at me for ruining the gym floor.

With soap bubbles? Really?

I left the rally dejected and didn’t support another athletic event until I arrived at college. During my undergrad and grad school days, I attended a few large-scale university football games and even saw the Atlanta Braves play. For the most part, though, I attended these games with the same mentality with which I attend outdoor concerts and festivals: to people watch and eat junk food on a pretty day.

Until recently, I hadn’t attended any sporting events at the university where I teach. When my students perform in plays or concerts, I generally attend to support them, but until lately, I haven’t felt the urge to see the university’s athletes in action.

I decided that choice was hypocritical. Why not support all my students in whatever university events they choose to take part in?

So with a smile on my face and a cheer in my heart, I decided to attend a football game. I wore a university jersey to show my support and was promised by another faculty member that both beer and nachos would be on the menu.

The day was beautiful, sunny and warm without being sweltering, and the crowd was buoyant and loud. However, my good mood was put on hold when I found that the snack bar held only meat products in the way of burgers and hotdogs. No nachos? What would I do without that lovely, liquid processed cheese?

With a sigh, I proceeded to the beer garden only to be told that I couldn’t take my purchased can of Coors Light into the stands. I quickly tucked the unopened can into my jacket and proceeded to drink it like a hobo surreptitiously out of my pocket. I quickly abandoned that project when I remembered that high school pep rally. I had visions of the university Chancellor singling me out from the crowd to yell at me.

Without food or drink, I was without distraction and was therefore forced to watch the game.

While I appreciate the physical challenges and the various strategies involved, I just don’t like watching sports. Maybe it’s psychological, and I’m still carrying around that 13-year-old girl who was called ugly during a sporting event. Maybe it’s sociological, and I can’t help but analyze rather than appreciate men chasing after balls.

Whatever it is that causes my aversion to sports, I left the game feeling very much like the teenager who was called out of the stands by her principal.

So am I insane for thinking that this time would be different? Maybe. But sometimes, I guess it’s good for me to put something new into my routine.

I’ll always support my students, no matter what events they participate in, but I think I’ll do it by wishing them well. Oh, and I’ll wear the school colors (red and black) on Fridays. When in doubt, say it with fashion.