That's right. We've done it again. But for once, this one truely wasn't our fault. And if you believe that one, I've got a bridge to sell you.
It all began on a beautiful Friday in December. "Beautiful Friday? In Charlottesville?!?" you ask. Well, it was beautiful for two reasons. First, this was Friday, December 5, the last day of classes for the fall semester, and the night of Grinching. Second, after having our our hopes of getting a bowl bid more or less trampled on, we turned our attention to Richmond, and the only team that might win a National Championship this year, the soccer team. So armed with 25 yellow cards, a couple of bright orange signs, and the most obnoxious soccer faces we could muster, the band set off to the game.
I should have known that the evening would be interesting by the way it began. Upon arriving at the football/soccer stadium in Richmond, we went to the area under the scoreboard to await the end of the first game. We sat on the hill, and waited. Little did we realize that the first game, between Indiana and UCLA would go into Triple-Overtime. Oh, well, we busied ourselves doing other things. We chatted with the Indiana band, we bought souveniers, we helped Renee (yes, Renee *Le Febure*) and about 20 twelve-year-olds fleshpile Rob Koehl. An otherwise enjoyable experience, all around. Eventually, we were let behind the goal to our seats, and the game began.
This is where the fun begins. The band itself was having a rocking time. We were in true soccer form. Heckling the opposing goalie, cheering our players on, bantering with obnoxious St. Louis Fans, the works. It helped that our team jumped out to a 3-1 lead over the Billikins (what the hell is a Billikin, anyway?). We had been wandering and cheering behind the goal the whole game. For those that have never been to Richmond's stadium, there is a concrete area behind the goal where we were located. We had been standing on the grass line the whole time cheering our hearts out. Finally, St. Louis got a penalty shot at our goal, in front of us. We moved over the ten feet to get behind the goal, and did our best basketball freethrow distraction. Brock Yetso, our goalie, dove to his right and made the save, and we went absolutely apeshit bonkers. The usher in charge of us came over and asked (politely, I might add) that we move back from the field a bit. We did, and the rest of the game went off without a hitch. Or so we thought.
Aparently, the St. Louis coach took a little offense at our actions during the game. Using the now famous quote, "What was up with that Friggin' Band?", he proceded to rant on his *live* postgame interview. OOOPS! Also, some random usher (who was actually a highly placed member of the NCAA) took offense to our actions, and decided that she was going to write a letter to the AD, write a letter of misconduct, and sanction the University. OOOPS again! The promotions people decided that rather than facing a letter of misconduct and possible sanctions, that they would not let us travel to any more soccer events this year, effectively banning us from Richmond Stadium. Shit.
You think it's over? Well, not quite. The next night, we traveled to scenic Richmond again to play VCU in basketball. On the way in, Jeff Jones, the coach of the men's team, stoped Jason Zeibel and says, "Remeber, you guys are allowed to wave behind the goal in this sport!" Well, Chalk one up to the Pep Band. Before the game, we also ran into Terry Holland and Wood Selig. Thinking that we might as well commit ritual suicide now, we went up and said hi. They said that they hadn't heard anything about us being banned. As we counted our blessings, Beth Anne Freeborn (our esteemed directress) talked to Terry. Beth came back with Mr. Holland, and he told us he thought we had been treated unfairly. In order that we should still be able to see the game, he gave us the tickets he would have used to get us in. (The AD, our AD, actually supported us! Someone call the church to see if hell froze over yet!) So, as a happy ending to this story, we went back to Richmond and watched, and cheered, and booed for the National Championship game (which we unfortuanely lost to UCLA).