Marshall Law + rye = drunken debauchery
By Dave Martin
I THINK NOT. Gazette news editor Marshall Bellamy enjoys
a group hug from the lovely ladies of the cheerleading
team and maybe even from the two dudes in the rear.
Sports and alcohol are an inseparable couple. There's very
little denying that.
So when my colleagues in the sports department asked me to
take in the Homecoming football game from the fans' perspective,
I did so with a side order of 100 proof rye. However, I did
have second thoughts once a supersonic jet decided to pass close
overhead before the kick-off and frayed my foggy wits.
The first half of the game was a bit of a blur, not because
I was hammered or anything, but because of a series of distractions
which did nothing to assist the game-viewing experience. The
first incident was some poor girl's thong, which was clearly
visible and appeared to be held together with super thin string.
The comfort of such an undergarment was something the slightly
inebriated mind cannot help but wonder about. The second detachment
was some stupid wasp that persisted in attempting to take a
swim in my bottle of rye and Coke.
Despite the distractions, I did notice a field goal attempt
gone awry, a cajillion turnovers and the score at half-time
- 25-21 for Ottawa. Seeing that daunting figure I powerfully
craved more strong drink, my rye being long gone by now.
I found myself trying to find the beer tent. When I finally
discovered the safe haven I was promptly told that a tall boy
of beer was almost $6, but I decided to splurge with the little
money I had left. Conditions got worse when I exchanged my beer
ticket for the only brand of beer remaining - Blue Light. I
was tempted to ask if it came with a baby bottle but I'm not
that much of an asshole.
From the beer corral I got my first decent view of the game
sans distractions. I watched the game from there until the beer
was spent and the urge to leave for greener grass became too
great to ignore. The fact they were all out of beer only minutes
into the second half might have had some bearing on my decision.
In the movie The Paper, Micheal Keaton said you can get anywhere
with a smile and clipboard. Well, you can also get onto the
sidelines with a smile, a clipboard, a media pass and a stumble
in your step, along with a friend in tow without any of the
Entering onto the sidelines I realized sportswriters are a
privileged breed, not because they possess access to air conditioning
and hot dogs in the press box, but because they have access
to the holiest of holies in the sporting world - the sidelines.
One can never fully appreciate the mental and physical intensity
of university football unless you've been on the sidelines -and
under the influence.
From the sidelines I was reminded that a 250 lb. linebacker
is a really big man, especially in proportion to my unimposing,
skinny build. I was also reminded that cheerleaders here at
Western are as beautiful as everyone says they are.
My semi-drunk mind was able to comprehend that the last five
minutes of regular time in the game becoming even more furious,
climaxing with the unbelievable block of Ottawa's field goal
attempt. Watching the final touchdown was incredible with a
belly full of rye. The last play really was, in every sense
of the word, a Homecoming play.