Prepare For Battle

by JOSEPH GENEST Illustration by Hannah Swann

“God, I feel terrible” is my first thought as I scramble to the bathroom for water. I pop a vitamin and check the time: 10:36 a.m., “great, time to start drinking in 20 minutes”.

Last night was kind of crazy. We have a game against JMU today, and as our biggest football rival, we needed to throw down extra hard last night. As long as I’ve gone to school here, the game against has been the biggest. Every year, everyone crowds to Oregon Hill in a disorderly fashion for block parties. It’s like our own little Mardi Gras. Since Oregon Hill is out of VCU Police jurisdiction, and the Richmond Police have actual crimes to solve, things are usually regulated in a self-civilized fashion, with few police on horses to make sure no fights break out. It’s kind of nice being treated like an adult. I get a call from my boy to come down to the tailgate. I grab my backpack and throw my solo cups and handle of captain in my bag: it’s time for some football.

The city looks obsolete as the backdrop to a sea of black and gold fans. Like soldiers going to war, everyone is decked out in their colors, ready for battle. The greatest part of it all is, no matter if they are old or young, tall or short, black or white- if they’re in black and gold, you’re cool with them, and they’re cool with you. Greeted by fellow fans along the way, I arrive to tailgate with a smile on my face as friends embrace me. Music blares as we bash the opponent, exchange banter and cheer with fans, talk about tonight’s plans and the excessive parties that will ensue this evening. Stats are spewed, prospects for next year are deliberated- all in all, this conversation can be seen to some as monotonous, mindless blabber that comes with every game. To others, it is a language shared by academia and common folk alike. It’s kind of a beautiful thing, this common ground between the two. Not just shared every Saturday, but that simple “How ‘bout them Rams’ last weekend?” chipped out between the 40 year old bagging groceries and the dean.

The atmosphere hasn’t always been this nice though. My freshman year, when we first started playing, showed a lot of controversy. Protestors were the first thing. Being built behind Cary St. Gym, next to the expressway, took a lot of lowincome housing and residents did not take too kindly to VCU gentrifying their neighborhood. The next issue came with tailgating. The first game, VCU police rode on their horses and gave out underage possession of alcohol citations like bible study pamphlets in the compass. Alumni who just want to share a drink with their son were on the horn about the uncertain future of donating to the university. Needless to say, what happened in the stadium lot before the next game stayed in the stadium lot. The third issue was with the athletes. It has always been known that certain athletes receive extra privilege from a school, but when it comes to bringing in top recruits to a new program, the methodology of “weighting” their GPA is questionable.

After a rocky start, the team has assimilated into our school as if it has always been here. Considering our mid major city doesn’t really have much to claim to a sports team, the city embraced the Rams rather quickly. Richmond quickly became a football town. Traffic has been jammed every game day since the team was established. The city even donated millions to expand the stadium because of the growing popularity. Rumor has it that the fan base is getting so large, VCU is in consideration to be upgraded to an FBS school.

The packed stadium delivers a thunderous roar of cheer as “Black and Yellow” blares from the loudspeakers and the team stampedes onto the field. The coolest thing about the stadium has to be the south end zone. The student section, designed almost as a wall hovering over the field that without fail, delivers a slight distraction to the other teams kickers. There is something numbing about being a part of a large crowd of thousands, a small cell to a large organism. You can’t really explain that feeling inside during every cheer on third down. Or when we score, you just know it, and you know everyone else is feeling it too.

We ended up crushing JMU 45-10, with our cookie cutter Mike Vick quarterback rushing for 150 yards and throwing for 246 and 4 touchdowns, not too shabby. Pretty much anywhere the football players go in town, they get treated like royalty, and rightfully so. What brings in more money, our star running back or your good grades? (It’s a rhetorical question). Regardless, a postgame victory always brings a great night.

I headed back to a friend’s for postgame celebratory drinks (I’m beginning to see how alcoholism develops). We hail to the victor, reminiscing over great plays, bad calls, and amateur predictions of the remainder of the season. Football is really 65% of conversation at these sorts of events. That, and what victory party we’re going to tonight. The bars are usually packed with fans to witness other CAA teams compete as drunken praise and banter is echoed through the downtown streets over who we’ll see in the playoffs. Parties are a little less suffocating from the game. The most intriguing feature of victory parties is who you’ll meet. People travel far (and I mean FAR) to see friends for games. How do you think JMU got their party school reputation? Word of mouth, it’s the beauty of football season.

I don’t think I could see VCU any other way. Yeah, you could see it as an infectious enculturation masking the “true” culture of VCU, but a football team really is like anything else, you can be as involved as you want. And well yes, I caved freshman year to the glamour of Super Saturdays. But I can’t say I regret it. Monday through Friday, it’s work, and not just school, but being involved in everything else too. A little omnipresent entertainment can be healthy- not just for VCU, but Richmond as well. Some new discovery in counting genomes is great, but is it really casual talk between you and the guy changing your oil? Football is more than an event on Saturday, but rather a continuous realm of tradition, spread from generation to generation like folklore. It is that unspoken communal feeling that only a sports fan knows. Because no matter if you go to VCU or not, you’re a part of something, and that thing, whether it be a casual trip to the stadium on Saturday or engulfing your entire weekend, is the fabric of true spirit.