Pep out of step
Illustration by Sofia Rahnama.
Dylan Hostetter, Executive Editor
It was Saturday afternoon at the Siegel Center. I had front-row seats on the corner of the student section, with more legroom than I would ever need and such a crystal-clear view of the court it felt like I was basically on the bench. It was a perfect set-up — so I thought.
I left for just a moment, stopping to make sure I draped my jacket over the seat to preserve its excellence, and headed for the concession stand. Nothing tastes better during a VCU basketball game than a $10 lukewarm hot dog washed down with a $12 bottle of water.
When I returned to my seat however, I found something strange there: a person. As I approached him, I noticed he was rifling through the largest tote I had ever seen — to be honest I’m still not sure how he got it past security.
I told him that he was in my seat, but he said that he had asked my friends to move down and they said it was OK. I looked to where he was pointing, but there was no one there. I came to the game alone. The only thing I hate more than the Richmond Spiders is confrontation, so I let it slide and took the seat next to him.
The strangest thing was that this guy was clearly at least in his 30s. I had no clue how he even got into the student section, he stood out like a sore thumb. He just didn’t look right cheering alongside a group of undergraduates — it was like seeing a 30-year-old in a Skibidi Toilet T-shirt. It was just sad.
The real problem began when the game started. As soon as the Rams hit the court, this guy began screaming at the top of his lungs, practically drowning out the sound of the entire crowd. It was the loudest thing I had ever heard — even louder than that time I dropped a pan at 3 a.m.
Somehow I was sitting next to the most annoying person on the planet. He even looked annoying, from his ram-horn hat, to the fact that every piece of clothing on his body was VCU branded. It was almost impressive. I hate to admit that when he bent down to dig in his bag I noticed he was also wearing VCU tighty whities.
It got even worse when he began digging into his tote. The Rams were dominant on the court, and it seemed like every time they scored, he acquired a new piece of VCU swag from his bag. That thing was practically a Santa sack full of VCU merch: bracelets, flags, balloons and whistles, you name it. He looked like the mascot of “peaked in college.”
Somehow this guy also knew all the Peppas choreography, even some moves they didn’t even use anymore. With every two-pointer he swung his arms in some cheer, and with every three he stomped his feet and jumped up into the air.
The entire game I could do nothing but stand there, arms crossed with a scowl on my face, as he obnoxiously made Vs and Cs and Us with his arms. I didn’t even look at him, for fear that the sight of the felt ram horns protruding from his hat would make me do something violent.
Once I even heard him mutter under his breath that “these kids didn’t know how to cheer anymore,” and that “he could teach them a thing or two.” This was of course right before he pulled out a Rodney the Ram popcorn bucket and began shoveling popcorn from Rodney’s mouth into his own.
As the game drew to a close, I couldn’t wait to leave. When the shot clock hit zero, I glanced over to see what kind of ridiculous cheer the crazed fan was going to do next, but he had vanished. His tote of props and everything else was gone.
As I filed into the aisle to leave the stadium, I got the attention of one of the attendants to complain. Surprisingly, he told me he had no idea what I was talking about. He told me that he saw the seat next to me empty for the entire game. It didn’t make any sense; that guy was so obnoxious there was no way that I was the only one that noticed him.
After describing him in more detail to the attendant, he told me that it sounded like I was talking about an old president of the Peppas. It all fell into place — the chants, his weird age and his over-enthusiastic spirit for a college basketball game — until he told me this guy had graduated in 1968. He was the very first president of the Peppas, before they even had their name.
I don’t like to think of the implications of spending two halves of a basketball game sitting next to a phantom too often, but it is hard to forget one of the most annoying nights of my life. Some nights I lie awake and swear I see him standing in the corner of my bedroom, pointing at me — with a VCU Basketball foam finger.
Editor’s Note: The characters and events depicted in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
