As a formerly proud son of the Singing College, I want to take this opportunity to renounce, denounce and otherwise announce my total and complete disapproval of this.
First off, this is not a sport. It bears as much resemblance to a real sport as LARPing does to real medieval warfare.*
Second off, I’m not an opponent of letting nerds do their thang. If you want to compose 10,000-line epic poems in Klingon, or dress up like an elf and beat people dressed like ogres with foam rubber-padded whiffle bats on the weekends, or decorate your room with Hello Kitty merchandise, or even (God help you) play a real life version of Quidditch in your spare time, well, it’s a free country. But you don’t go on national TV and advertise it. You do it quietly, recognizing that it’s a little bit embarrassing in the eyes of the broader society. You do it with a healthy sense of shame. Admixed, of course, with a nerdilicious sense of superiority over the helplessly backward society that can’t understand why Hello Kitty is the apotheosis of pop art, but shame nevertheless. And you certainly don’t go on TV and associate your college, which has thousands of alumni/ae just going about their lives, trying to muddle through, who have enough difficulties without being known as graduates of the school that is ground zero of the college Quidditch craze. Will you not be happy until the Cornell graduates at work are actually giving me swirlies in the men’s room?
*NOTE: When I originally harangued Sarah about this last night, the conversation went:
ANGUS: “It’s not a sport. It bears as much resemblance to a real sport…”
SARAH: “As the Amherst football team does to real football?”
That’s cold, man.
UPDATE: Re-watching it just now with Sarah, I remembered one of the worst parts of this entire Quidditch fiasco: I now know what it’s like to be condescended to by Harry Smith and the woman who hosts “Big Brother”. I’d really hoped to make it to the grave without experiencing that. I didn’t think it an unreasonable expectation.
Dwyeropolis 