College Football: The Eight Most Overrated and Underrated Traditions
College football is a sport of traditions. From oldies like "Script Ohio" and "Howard's Rock," to recent developments like Virginia Tech's "Enter Sandman" and Boise State's Smurf Turf, it seems like almost every team in Division IA (FBS is a stupid name, I won't dignify it) has their own ritual. The Steelers may have the "Terrible Towels," and the Lakers may have Jack Nicholson, but with respect to traditions, no sport touches college football, in number or fervor.
Baseball is likely closest, with Miller Park's Klement's "Sausage Race," Fenway's "Sweet Caroline," and of course Wrigley's "Take Me Out to the Ballgame." But baseball is torturously boring and requires gimmicks to keep fans from falling asleep between trips to pay $8 for a hotdog and $11 for one of those little helmets full of ice cream.
But even baseball doesn't touch college football. The sport is fueled by insane passion, which generates these almost innumerable traditions. However, this passion also has a side effect. Because the fans' reason is obscured by their passion, they sometimes fail to see the inherent banality of their ostensibly awesome tradition.
With that in mind, here's the list of the most overrated and underrated traditions in college football. As an impassioned fan myself, I will attempt to view the traditions independent of their school, in order to avoid any bias. Traditions will be judged based on their inherent awesomeness or stupidity.
[Author's Note: Judging from the backlash through the comments, most people did not comprehend that this article was intended to be funny. I have nothing against any of the traditions. I just don't think we need to see (for example) Uga 15 times when we watch a Georgia game. I'd rather see some of the many hot Georgia co-eds. College football is obviously rooted in traditions, as stated above. I love college football; the pageantry is some of what makes it great. But it seems as if some traditions are shoved down our throats game after game. I was merely commenting on that. I am as ardent a Virginia Tech as exists, but I tire of seeing the "Lunch Pail" every game. Knowing how irrationally defensive most fans are, I should have seen this coming. But I don't think anyone should be offended by my musings on (seemingly) unimportant things such as blue turf and a bulldog who has no more comprehension of a college football game than the blue turf.]
Georgia Bulldogs: Uga
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This tradition could not be less interesting. A Georgia Athletic Association employee, fueled by infinite creativity, saw a fan with a bulldog and suggested that the bulldog become the mascot. That should be the end of the story, but it's not.
Eight different bulldogs, all raised by Sonny Seiler, have graced the position of Uga since the tradition began in 1956. Despite the fact that Seiler is a noteworthy attorney, he is now most notable for having raised bulldogs.
With all the hoopla and notoriety surrounding Uga, you'd think these bulldogs displayed some interesting skills, like Lassie or Flipper or any other number of deservingly famous animals. But these bulldogs just sit on the sidelines.
Uga is comparable to E.B. White's Wilbur in the mascot's undue notoriety, except this isn't a frame job. If a spider was doing tricks and passing them off as Uga's, I'd have no complaints. This is not the case. Nothing interesting happens with or around this dog. But that doesn't seem to stop television commentators from showing him each and every game.
Notre Dame Fighting Irish: Touchdown Jesus
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In 1964, the iconic mural was installed on the Hesburgh Library. Here's the way this should have happened: one Notre Dame student, during the LBJ Presidency, says to another, "That Jesus mural kinda looks like he's signaling touchdown." The second student responds with, "Huh. That's true."
The mural was constructed in a way in which it is visible from the football stadium, and Jesus was depicted with open arms, in a manner which resembles the referee's signal for touchdown. This is amusing for about 30 seconds.
Though I am not bothered by the mural, like those who contend that it is sacrilegious, I merely find it uninteresting. It certainly doesn't seem intriguing enough to garner all the attention it receives.
Texas Longhorns: Big Bertha
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It's a giant drum. That's about it. I could go into a Freudian diatribe explaining the possible roots of this drum's creation, but I won't. The Longhorn Band started using this monstrosity in 1955, and they never looked back.
You know how Texans love to boast that "everything is bigger in Texas." Apparently that includes instruments as well. I could create a second slide in reference to Purdue's "Big Bass Drum," but that would be painfully redundant.
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Mississippi State Bulldogs: Cowbells
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Perhaps Mississippi State fans saw the SNL cowbell sketch featuring Chistopher Walken and didn't understand the irony. No, no one wants more cowbell. That's why the skit is funny.
I can fully understand why the SEC voted to ban these infernal and useless instruments from use by fans in conference games in 1974. No, it's not because they are too disruptive and give the Bulldogs any kind of advantage. It's because they're painfully annoying.
Clemson Tigers: Howard's Rock
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I think certain traditions are revered simply because they have been around for a long time. This is one of them. The rock, which is mounted on a pedestal at the top of a hill above the west end zone, has been facing slow erosion from the unforgiving oily fingers of Clemson players since 1966.
Coach Frank Howard simply wanted the rock (formerly a door stop) out of his office. He thought it would be ditched, but a Clemson booster decided to erect a monument to it (God only knows why). Then, the players, and Howard, got into it, and it became a tradition.
Take away the history, and what we have is players touching a rock, which of itself has no significance whatsoever. The running down the hill is all well and good, but the rock thing is just another inexplicable example of weird sports customs, like not stepping on the line in baseball.
Arkansas Razorbacks: "Woo Pig Sooie"
6 of 16This is one of the goofiest things ever done by sports fans of any kind. The "Calling of the Hogs" may not have the intended effect of pumping up the team, but it perhaps does render the opposing team defenseless as they fall to the ground laughing at the utter silliness of said chant.
University of Southern California: Traveler and the Trojan Rider
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There are several things that are lacking in this tradition:
1) Compared to Chief Osceola's spear planting, this equestrian act gives us nothing.
2) The one cool thing Traveler ever does is circle the field after scores. Since the removal of the track two decades ago, the circling gallop has been reduced to a mundane trot. Now, traveler does no cool things.
3) This may just be the history buff in me, but the rider is dressed as a Roman, and Roman and Trojan are not the same thing, even if you take the Aeneid at face value. Maybe they should name the horse Bucephalus, then at least the historical incongruence of the mascot would seem intentionally ironic.
As far as mascots go, this horse and rider provide less entertainment and crowd-pumping than your average drunk student in a cheap costume.
Ohio State Buckeyes: "Script Ohio"
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I have nothing but respect for the fans of Ohio State. They have one of the best and most loyal fanbases in the country. That said, this is a terribly overrated tradition. The band slowly unwinds into a flowing "Ohio," with the last band member, often a senior and a sousaphone, coming to "dot the i" and take a bow.
Seeing "Script Ohio" is cool once, there's no doubt. But every band at every major football program does cool things before the game and at halftime. And most of the other programs at least vary their performances with new formations, as opposed to constantly affirming their state of residence. The only way that "Script Ohio" should still be noteworthy is if The Bear (Jack Nicklaus) is "dotting the i."
Perhaps they could add a "State" or "St" to the formation in the near future, you know, spice things up. I can only assume that "Script Ohio" has been maintained to ensure that young Buckeyes aren't lazy with their penmanship, constantly reminding them to dot their i's. If they add a "St," they can prompt them to always cross their t's as well.
Underrated: LSU Tigers: Mike the Tiger
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A Tiger is already a great team mascot (hence the adoption of it by so many schools). When it's a real live tiger, that just makes it even better.
Since the first Mike came to Baton Rouge in 1936, there have been six Bengal Tigers that have graced the illustrious position of LSU mascot.
As if the Tiger's very existence wasn't cool enough, his LSU handlers have formed a tradition of wheeling him in front of the opposing locker room before football games. If the 90,000+ fans don't intimidate you, maybe a tiger will.
With the uniqueness and sheer awesomeness, this is one of the best traditions in college football.
Boise State Broncos: "Smurf Turf"
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Again, uniqueness counts. And there are few oddities in college football as unique as Boise State's blue field. First introduced in 1986, the field has been the calling card of Boise State football since before Kellen Moore was playing kickball, let alone football.
The "Smurf Turf" was introduced to try and differentiate Boise State football, and it was wildly successful. It has also proved to be a good luck charm for the Broncos, with Boise State having won 77 of their last 79 games on the blue surface.
Wisconsin Badgers: "Jump Around"
11 of 16In between the third and fourth quarters of every game at Camp Randall, the Wisconsin student section rocks the house to the tune of House of Pain's "Jump Around."
It's an awesome tradition, and a great way to get the team pumped for the home stretch. While many teams have exhilarating entrances before games, few teams have anything as exciting before the final quarter.
Though a young tradition (started in 1998), it had become such an integral part of Badger home games immediately that when, university officials decided to postpone the tradition during stadium construction in 2003, student fans went up in arms. Unannounced, it led to angry and arguably inappropriate protests during the first home game. The anger formed into multiple petitions, forcing the tradition to be resumed.
Auburn Tigers: War Eagle
12 of 16Around since 1892, this is an oldie that never gets old. Today, there's a modern twist, with the Eagle flying around the stadium before home games, landing at midfield. Enough said. Anyone who doesn't like War Eagle is either unpatriotic or an Alabama fan. And even Alabama fans deep down have to like the eagle, even if they hate the fight song and subsequent chant.
Army Black Knights and Navy Midshipmen: Line In
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Speaking of patriotism: Army-Navy. It's very frustrating to me the indifference my generation has to the Army-Navy game. Even though I was born well after Doc Blanchard, Glenn Davis (he was not a big baby) or even Roger Staubach, I still have the necessary reverence towards the best event of the college football season.
In a nutshell, both academies' students, one group after the other, arrive in a processional. They are presented to the remainder of the crowd (who is silent during the procession), then take their seats. Watching it gives you goosebumps. No matter how many times it's been done the exact same way, it's always an awesome spectacle.
Florida State Seminoles: Chief Osceola (and Renegade)
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Before every Seminole game, Chief Osceola, on his trusty steed Renegade, gallops across the field, and calmly and dexterously plants a spear at midfield. Are you taking notes USC?
What a great way to invigorate the team and fans before a game. The only way it could be better is if the spear was on fire. Oh wait, it is. It's a flaming spear. As annoying as I find the incessant "War Chant" after about one quarter of Seminole football, there's nothing wrong with the pregame spear plant.
First conceived in 1962, Chief Osceola didn't come to fruition until 1977, when Bobby Bowden realized how stupid it was not to use flaming spears.
Michigan Wolverines: "The Victors"
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It's hard to call this tradition underrated when it's so well renowned. But there are other fight songs ("Notre Dame's Victory March," Southern California's "Fight On!") that are equally well known and respected, when "The Victors" is undoubtedly the best fight song in college football.
I can't hear this song without getting it stuck in my head. I am in no way a Michigan fan (I root for Ohio State every year in that game), but this song is great. It's catchy, it's upbeat and it never gets old.
Virginia Tech Hokies: "Enter Sandman"
16 of 16This is the best entrance in college football. While other entrances might impel a lot of loud cheering, create a cool spectacle (Miami's smoke, FSU's spear planting), or get people jumping, none of them do all three as well as "Enter Sandman" at Virginia Tech.
The song lends itself perfectly pumping a team up. It starts out with a simple beat, then slowly speeds up. The crowd feels the music. The students are whipped into a frenzy, with the crescendo coming right when the team exits the tunnel.
This entrance, though giving much credence in TV coverage of Thursday night Hokie home games, has not always gotten its due with respect to college football traditions because of it's relative youth (started in 2000).
I think if someone who knew nothing about college football were presented with the viewing of the notable traditions, that person would be as awestruck by Virginia Tech's entrance as anything. You can't see it (or better yet be a part of it) without getting goosebumps.
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