May Li
It is a tough time to be a college student. The gloom and gray of early winter, along with the dread of quickly approaching finals, are enough to suck the life out of even the most optimistic student. The rush of move-in and homecoming has faded, and end-of-the-year celebrations, including our very own Georgetown Day, are still five long months away.
But this year has been especially challenging for college students. Campuses across the nation have become sites of bitterness and division as students and faculty face off along protest lines. Georgetown is no stranger to these protests, as Hoyas continue to battle each other over the results of the recent #BuiltOn272 demands and the sit-in at President DeGioia’s office. Especially on the Hilltop, things have never looked so bleak.
Hoyas have little to unite around these days. Sports filled that role at one point, but early exits by the men’s and women’s soccer teams from the NCAA Tournament and a deflating season opening for men’s basketball have driven away some who were once interested. Unlike big-time football schools, where students, alumni, and fans devote an entire day of the week to bonding together and celebrating their program, unity among Hoyas is rare and fleeting. The 4,062 fans at Tuesday’s men’s basketball game against Maryland Eastern Shore represented the lowest turnout at a men’s basketball game since 2005, but no one can be blamed for not showing up. Sports culture at Georgetown is at an all-time low.
And yet, against all odds, something amazing is happening. Students and faculty, fans and non-fans alike, are all congregating over a rivalry that was thought to have died years ago. Facebook groups are blowing up with desperate Hoyas willing to pay big money for a basketball ticket. Leo’s is replaying rivalry games from the past on the projector. Everyone is talking about Syracuse.
Since the 1970s, hating Syracuse has been one of the few rituals that all Hoyas take part in. This game is one of the rare opportunities for people who would otherwise have nothing in common to come together and form a community, and it might not happen that many more times. The next home game in the rivalry will not be for another two years, when this year’s juniors and seniors will have already left, and many of the current freshmen will be abroad. We get this experience just once during our time on campus, twice if we’re lucky. It would be a shame not to take advantage of it.
Are we uniting over hate? Lord Voldemort and Emperor Palpatine would certainly be pleased. But it’s less about the hate than the love for a Hoya tradition that spans almost 40 years, a tradition that we all thought was lost. It’s about the love for something we can all share and experience together. It’s about connecting to a practice that has lasted generations, and that, hopefully, tomorrow’s Hoyas will continue for years to come.
It’s irrational, it’s silly, and it’s cheesy. But it is a chance to be irrational, silly, and cheesy together. That’s what a rivalry is all about. It’s not about the hate. It’s about the magical effect it has on a group of people that regular day-to-day campus life cannot produce. It’s not just a game, and it’s not just about the basketball. It’s about being a Hoya. It’s about being together, and we don’t have many opportunities to be together right now.
The unity will not last. No matter how the game plays out, everyone will return to their ordinary isolated homework routine when the sun rises on Sunday. This experience that used to take place several times over the course of six months, is now only available for two hours every other year. And it is exactly because this game is so rare, and because it is so short, that makes it all the more meaningful.
The Editorial Board encourages anyone connected to Georgetown to splurge for a ticket and to get excited. We understand that everyone is busy, and that the pressure of finals is growing by the minute, but take two hours out of your Saturday afternoon to be a part of something special, part of a feeling that is becoming harder and harder to create. It’s something that can’t be dismissed. Buy into this rivalry. Go all in. Give yourself over to the overwhelming sea of blue and gray ready to fill Verizon Center. Allow yourself to be irrational, silly, and cheesy together. You may not have the chance again.
