Flying beach ball most interesting part of homecoming football game
October 1, 2009
RIVER FALLS, WI — Students gathered at Ramer Field on Saturday, September 26th for the annual River Falls homecoming football game against Alma College from Michigan.
At the start of the first quarter the northern lower half of the bleachers was packed with eager UWRF students seeking a bloody, yearly feud with an opponent. What they got was something far more enriching. Just after kickoff, an unknown student, faculty member or slightly intoxicated parent inflated the game beach ball and sent it into the air.
Within moments the northerners became enthralled with the multicolored piece of floating plastic as they bounced it from one person to the next.
“It was phenomenal…the beach ball, I mean,” said Todd Frasier, a sophomore at the game that day. “It was like we were transported into another world. Football became an alternate reality that didn’t play into our game.”
Frasier’s pupils widened like black olives as he reminisced. During the interview, an ambulance was to be called after he passed out due to extreme happiness.
Researchers call the phenomenon Attention Deficit Disorder, or ADD, where the affiliate falls victim to a short attention span, regardless of the primary activity.
“They almost always fall on a different page of the book,” said Charlene Tisdale, a psychologist at the River Falls medical clinic.
With each strike against the massive beach ball came excessive laughter, giggling, and at least one “oh snaps!” as the ball was sent higher and higher into the air. The large crowd of students occupying the northern section of the bleachers almost erupted into a riot whenever the beach ball was knocked over the front of the bleachers, completely out of reach.
The last person to touch the ball before sending it over he edge was immediate labeled “[expletive]hole” over and over and over.
When the ball was retrieved, usually by an attractive cheerleader taken out of her dance routine or a disgruntled line coach, the crowd cheered, thanked the retriever, and forgave the incident instigating culprit with a pat on the back.
“We just told him or her that it was ‘all good’ and continued with our little volleyball game,” said Johnny Samson, a bro living in Johnson Hall.
At the same time, the Falcons were scoring points, which was a surprise to most who were actually watching, and attentive to, the game.
At one miraculous point during the game when the beach ball had been knocked out of the hands of playful onlookers, the Falcons made a break away for the endzone with the football, scoring a touchdown that put them ahead of Alma.
This didn’t stop student Jesse Fredrickson, whose attention to the game was only momentarily captured, from hopping the fence of the bleachers, jogging to the lonesome ball, and tossing it back into the crowd before screaming something unintelligible.
At one point, the crowd became especially concerned when a student grabbed the somewhat deflated ball from the air, hoisted it into the air and shouted “IT NEEDS MORE AIR,” before withdrawing the tube, and pumping it back to health in front of a gasping audience.
Again, the crowd erupted in applause when he sent it back into the air.
Most of the northern section of the bleachers emptied after the first half, and researchers are linking the sudden lack of student body to the second half of the game to the fact that the beach ball had either been destroyed or stolen.
“Whatever, we were just havin’ fun, tossin’ the ball around at the football game and some jerk had to take it away from us,” Chris Brinkmeyer, a fifth-year senior, told the paper. “Whatever, we’re gonna go get drunk now,” he finished.
Brad Brookins is a graduate of UW-River Falls.