By Andy Gallagher
Face it, you are not a sports star. But you do share something with them: the basic human need for attention. Only you must go to more creative lengths to achieve it. Recently, College Gameday came to visit my current institution. This visitation solidified a number of observations related to the attention-craving complex (ACC) that I had often previously encountered among fans at sporting events.
Quite often in sports, to achieve that desired feeling of “being there,” cameras will pan to the usually inebriated folk in the bleachers. Those on camera then respond rather predictably, but curiously so. They seem to have a fine grasp of the quantity of people who may be seeing them, but still go forward with their action. This action usually consists of both arms being raised, mouth agape, eyes wide drunk, and a hearty, ever-original “Woo!” sound. Hardly a natural behavioral sequence, even for a human. I find it hard to comprehend why a fan in this position (knowing it may be a once-in-a-lifetime chance to secure fifteen minutes of television glory) would want to be remembered as the gentleperson fit for a low-budget horror film. It is also difficult to imagine this person relaying the event to friends who watched the game at home:
“Dude, did you see me? I was on TV!”
“Awww….man! No! Were you seriously? Which one were you?”
“I was the one who had his arms up….I was screaming really loud…err…I was making this face…[unnatural contortion]…Man, trust me, I was on TV!”
It doesn’t seem that having a greater audience witness this silly act of attention-depravity deters these people from performing either. Super Bowls are the crème-de-la-crème of this idiocy, pushing “dedicated” (drunk) fans to team up with five friends, take off their shirts, then paint letters on their chests, only to see themselves on the JumboTron and realize they've lined up wrong and misspelled the home team name. But if it's fifteen minutes of “fame” (ridicule) they seek, whose to stand in their way.
I will propose an alternate solution, however: just stand still and let the “Woo!”ers emphasize your presence. How elegant is this, seriously. In this case, the conversation may run more like this.
“Dude, did you see me? I was on TV!”
“Awww….man! No! Were you seriously? Which one were you?”
“Well, the camera was looking at my section, and everyone was going crazy…but I was in the middle…and I was completely still and smiling. You had to see
me!”
“…That was you? Dude, you’re seriously gay.”
Okay, so I wasn’t quite cut out to reinvent the cheer, but there IS one thing that simply must change: the “Woo!” noise. Yes, it is simple and compelling. But what does it mean and why has it been socially acceptable for so long? Surely, some of the blame may be placed on Carson Daly and his atrocity TRL. However, as unknowing “Woo!”ers, we must also shoulder some of the load. The “Woo!” is meaningless and painfully overdone; please remove it from your public event vocabulary. I can personally assure you that whichever team or game show or rock star you may be “Woo!”ing at cannot hear you, and would otherwise have no idea how to interpret your “Woo!” anyway.
So for those of you frequenting sporting events and finding yourselves “Woo!”ing into cameras, I’ll have no quarrel with you–for you are most likely heavily intoxicated, and I am most likely heavily outweighed. But just remember, when you're screaming your ninth and tenth “Woo!” into my ear and your armpits are sweating out last inning's beer and hotdogs, I become slightly displeased–nay, extremely annoyed. That is, unless I made it into the background on College Gameday.