By Ian Froese, Staff Contributor
I went to a football game and a spectacle broke out.
By the game’s conclusion, the five gentlemen sporting black and gold unitards, the fellow wearing a Christmas vest leading the crowd in a chant of “Dal—hou—sie!”, and a half-naked streaker bolting onto the field in only his boxers were the recognizable figures of a night where the crowd was more of a story than the plays that transpired on the field.
If anyone questioned the extent the audience would control the evening’s narrative, you only had to look at the singing of the national anthem when a noticeable portion of the crowd, oblivious to the quiet PA announcements, did not immediately recognize they were supposed to stand. Once the crowd was on its feet, it took halfway through the song for the east end of the stadium to begin singing. And when they did, they butchered their performance with the loudest fans purposely singing at an incorrect pace.
The first football home game in 34 years had become an event, more so than it was a game.
Contributing to the lack of attention paid to the game was the approximately 20-feet of open space available between the field of play and the bleachers. It essentially became a canvas for the fans, particularly the intoxicated ones, to do whatever they pleased.
Did it mean fans would run to the front of the crowd and attempt to get their brethren to participate in the tried-and-true sporting tradition of the wave? Absolutely. Would it result in unbridled enthusiasm whenever specific drunks returned from the beer gardens and recognized a friend in the crowd? Certainly. Did the free room on the field encourage someone to partake in a piggy-back ride? Without a doubt.
To say it simply, the many distractions on the sidelines and students’ allure of seeing their friends at a sporting event rather than the classroom or the bar helped produce a festive atmosphere.
Of course, the sold-out crowd enjoyed themselves, but some people, this reporter included, were surely annoyed at the difficulty in focusing on the game when the rowdy crowd surrounding them was, for the most part, concentrating on anything but.
Sure, we will never have an encyclopedic knowledge of our football team like college fans south of the border, but is it too much to ask that we pay attention and are able to go home at the end of the game knowing the name of at least one Tiger? You can still be as rowdy as your heart desires – in fact, I encourage it – but when the game starts, most fans should be watching the game and supporting the boys. This, needless to say, might change in the Tigers’ final two regular season home games.
There are, though, many positives to take from Dal’s 23–21 loss to Holland College. There was pride in our school. Supporters cheered, dressed up in Dal colours, and a number even watched from outside Wickwire’s fence because capacity was reached in the stands. A memorable moment was the electric atmosphere felt throughout the field when Greg Pell ran a 90-yard punt return to give the home team a 19-16 lead early in the fourth quarter.
The quality of play is not in the same stratosphere as the AUS, but for only $2, students enjoyed a different and entertaining way to begin their Saturday night; a method that has been dormant since 1976.
We know the name of at least one Tiger. That’s because Dal Gazette editor-in-chief Joel Tichinoff is on the team. He doesn’t edit any of our football articles, mostly because his back is usually pretty sore after the game.
Recent Comments