The 19th Hole: Oh, the humanity: Confessions of a Cat-Griz camper

Note: The 19th hole would like to wish a happy 13th birthday to its little sister, Noelle.

Side note: It’s Cat-Griz, get over it. Griz-Cat just sounds dumb.

Shameless Promotional Note: Dancers are hot so go see the dance department’s 2006 Fall Showcase.

Sunday, Nov. 12, 2006

6:06 a.m. – BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ! I roll over and hit the snooze button. Seriously, it’s six in the morning on a Sunday! This has got to be the dumbest story idea ever. I get asked a lot of times where I get my column ideas and I usually respond that they just come to me. Well, I should have sent this one back.

7:32 a.m. – The assignment was simple: Spend the entire day at the UC camping out for tickets to the Griz-Cat game. After spending about 40 minutes debating whether to scrap this assignment and instead write about how much I hate the Steelers, I get up, shower and head over to the UC. Funny story, turns out that the UC doesn’t open at 7 a.m., but rather at 9 a.m. Since I was not going to stand outside for 88 minutes, I head back home.

9:06 a.m. – OK, looks like the UC was actually open this time and I head upstairs to the third floor, my backpack, sleeping back and camping chair in tow. Much to my surprise, 10 people were already in line when I got there. I ponder if these people were on assignment, too, but instead come to the conclusion that they were just idiots.

9:30 a.m. – I find out that my laptop doesn’t pick up the wireless signal in the UC. Shit.

10:10 a.m. – The Cosby Show: Season 1, episode 1.

11:09 a.m. – Some UC staff members put up a sign at the wrong door stating where the front of the line is. Some guy gets up and relocates the sign to where he was camped out stating “I’ve been here since 6 a.m.!” (remember, the UC opened at 9 a.m.). Mind you, this vigilante is no more than 10 people away from where I am and there is at max 30 people in the UC at the moment, but he had to make a stand. Call him a modern day Martin Luther King Jr.

12:01 p.m. – Bathroom break No. 1.

12:38 p.m. – My bathroom break turns into a 37-minute expedition to get money, food and deodorant. But, most importantly, I got my computer connected to the Internet, which means now I can Facebook and check up on the Cleveland-Atlanta game.

12:49 p.m. – The Cosby Show: Season 1, episode 6.

2:26 p.m. – Cleveland holds off Atlanta to secure its third victory of the year, next stop: Super Bowl XLI.

2:48 p.m. – They start numbering us off and I land lucky number 20, guaranteeing myself a guest pass. I am unsure if I should be excited or somewhat pissed that tickets don’t go on sale for another 14 hours.

3:31 p.m. – My friend Lindsay brings me food from the outside world: a greasy concoction that she refers to as a “taco.” This “taco” brings me much needed relief, but yet I am still depressed that I have to return to my camping chair.

6:12 p.m. – Not in the mood anymore for wholesome lessons taught by the Huxtables, I turn on YouTube to watch bored teenagers mimic music videos done by professionals… if you can consider Nelly Furtado a professional. I suggest watching mattmays’ remix of “The Girl is Mine” or “Physical” by Olivia Newton John…what? That was actually the real video? Oh…

6:35 p.m. – Oh, thank Jesus, I have a resident assistant meeting and I get to temporarily leave.

7:44 p.m. – I return from my exodus to Craig Hall to find that the temperature of the UC has increased incredibly. It’s like a damn sauna, and much to the horror of my co-campers, I begin to strip, taking off my beloved Oregon sweatshirt.

9:29 p.m. – After 45 minutes of standing in line because the UC people told us to, we are herded like cattle into another room. The change of scenery is appreciated since the other room was both hot and laden with the wonderful scent of body odor.

10:33 p.m. – I get my neon yellow wristband and decide to take a walk. Much to my amazement, the bottom two floors are flooded with people, maybe more than 2,000 in attendance. This sucks for two reasons: (a) there is a possibility that some of those saps in line won’t get a ticket and (b) it would be a real inconvenient time for a fire, because I am almost positive that 26 different fire codes are being violated at the moment. Perhaps the tears of the ticket-less fans could put out the fire.

Monday, Nov. 13, 2006

12:23 a.m. – The line for the wristband ends and the positioning game begins. Turns out the estimates of more than 2,000 people was greatly exaggerated. But still, the strategy remains that same: get a camping spot near the door so the ticket wait is much shorter. Luckily I get a spot right by the door, meaning my wait will be minimal, while the 1,600 folks behind me will have a rough Monday morning.

12:38 a.m. – The Cosby Show: Season 1, episode 17.

1:51 a.m. – With the Cosby Show, as amazing as it is, only able to keep one entertained for so long, what is a guy to do to keep himself from gouging his eyes out? One word: Karaoke. I wander down to the UC Game Room where a karaoke stage was set up. Before you know it, myself, my friend Tanner Oertli and A.J. Miller, the renowned bassist for the Clintons, are singing “Afternoon Delight,” which as far as I know is some sort of ice cream dish. The crowd loves us, and by love, I mean we get an ample dose of sympathy claps.

2:55 a.m. – After tiring of listening to off-key renditions of popular 80s songs, I return to my camping spot and curl up into my sleeping bag in an attempt to fall asleep for a couple of hours. Turns out, it’s a bit difficult to fall asleep when you’re sharing your sleeping quarters with about 1,600 others, half of which won’t shut up while the other half reeks of high heaven from sweating all day in the sauna that we call the UC. I nod off a few times but eventually give up on the whole sleep idea.

3:38 a.m. – Word begins to spread that we are going to begin to start lining up for tickets. Suddenly, everyone is awake, frantically packing their belongings and attempting to position themselves in line. I throw my computer into my backpack and round up the rest of my belongings, but somewhere in the melee I lose my sleeping bag cover. I’m not too worried about my loss though, the end is almost near.

4:13 a.m. – After shelling out $14, I hold in my hand two tickets that although they were produced on paper, feel like they were made of gold. After 1,147 minutes, I am able to go home and salvage some sleep before my 9 a.m. class.
If the past day taught me anything, it’s that the UC has officially made it up on my hate board, joining the likes of Ben Roethlisberger, clam chowder and Dr. Phil. What makes me more pissed is that apparently I forked out $104.50 this semester to keep this joint up and running. That’s some serious change money that the University is stealing from me. I could probably use that money to purchase some of that “Afternoon Delight” stuff.