Ten degrees from .500

Sipping on my drink, my thoughts were interrupted by the rising volume of the conversation next to me. Having been in more discussions than considered healthy involving either "the madness of the bosses' system," or the deeper meaning of some Dylan song he wrote while stoned, I instinctively tried to block it out. But something stopped me. Something not heard under the infra-red glow of the Feve bar since John Heisman coached the football team. A heated discussion about sports.

I listened in, thinking that I might hear something along the lines of a Sammy vs. McGwire, Jordan vs. the Bulls or Art Modell vs. Lucifer debate. Instead, I heard a discussion about why our equestrian team just got rocked by the "Poor Sisters of the Blind State U," I think.

Anyway, the upshot of the conversation was that they decided this loss was not only the fault of the horses but of the institution at large. They came to the conclusion that something is wrong with Oberlin Sports in general. But why?

All the traditional theories were paraded. Our teams suffer from a lack of institutional support (i.e. the College doesn't give enough money for financial aid to athletes); Oberlin attracts a "special" kind of student body that sets its sights on topics more worthy than sports; our athletes play "just for the fun of it."

I didn't buy any of these. Other college athletic and financial aid departments struggle with budget constraints. I admit that our fan base starts with two strikes against it, but what can one expect from the only college in the U.S. where the "Bravo" channel hauls in three to four times more student viewers than ESPN? Nevertheless, hippies, ravers and resident freaks can love sports just like anybody else. Just take a look at the havoc our ultimate Frisbee team wreaks on the sporting world. And anybody who fosters the naive conception that our athletes aren't focused on winning is about as sharp as a marble.

I have my own theory. Hills. Other places have enough for athletes to complain about during conditioning. We don't have any. The only climb we know of involves the ramp outside of the snack bar. (And don't mention "Mt. Oberlin." If you put a Volkswagen in neutral at the top, it wouldn't coast down.) Everyone else beats the tar out of us. Coincidence? The answer is obvious.

As chance has it, I also have a solution: Colorado. Pack up and move the whole operation to some snowy mountaintop in the Rockies. The baseball team gets more home runs, the druggies get high off the thinner air, and the environmental studies majors finally get an environment to study. Everyone is happy, and spending their free time picnicking on a grassy hillside.