This past Sunday, freshman Pete Potterman made his way to Powers Field to join what he thought would be an orange sea of comrades in witnessing the Supreme and Glorious Princeton Tigers easily crush their local nemesis, Rutgers. Great was his surprise, then, when he entered the arena to see Princeton’s side of the stands completely empty, save for the tiger mascot. Even greater was his astonishment when he learned that Princeton was losing.
One possible explanation was that the entire team got recruited by photoshopping their heads onto Tom Brady’s torso. It seemed more likely, however, that Princeton’s alleged winning streak (apparently 150 years long and counting) had been a farce, perpetuated by the fact that nobody in the student body had ever come to verify that the Tigers actually won their games.
In any case, Potterman realized that the lack of spectators meant that no matter how many bonfires were lit, students could never be sure whether or not their festivities had been truly earned. But this time, Potterman felt certain that victory was within grasp.
“Despite the lack of dedication to Old Nassau, my dreams of a Princetonian victory were close to coming true,” he said.
Princeton, the winningest team of the Ivy League (if you don’t count actual victories), had captured the ball from Rutgers, and sent it across the field. Then, catastrophe struck. Rutgers scored. While the red sea of Rutgers students chanted, “RU rah rah!”, the Princeton tiger clapped its hands together in what was probably supposed to be an encouraging manner.
Alas, Princeton’s fortunes did not change for the remainder of the game. Rutgers scored two more touchdowns before halftime.During the first few minutes of the break, Potterman took the opportunity to interview some Rutgers students. What, in their opinion, accounted for their measly state-school’s massive lead over one of the allegedly winningest teams in the Ivy League?
“Our Scarlet Knight Spirit!” shouted one member of the crowd.
“Our cheap in-state tuition,” said another, counting his money.
Potterman returned to his seat, only this time, he had company. Someone had set a large stack of books beside him. He looked up to see a fellow undergraduate student.He asked the wayward student why she was lugging books into the bleachers of Powers Field during a Princeton-Rutgers deathmatch.
“It’s just as quiet as the Art library, and I don’t even have to go through a metal detector or get patted down to come work here,” she explained.
By this point, the game had ended. The tiger mascot became consumed by despair and lay prostrate on the turf.
Although scandalized by the fraud of the football team, Potterman was comforted when he read on the Princeton website that the Great and Mighty lacrosse team hadn’t lost a match in the past 1000 years.
- DR ’23
