The Cavalier daily Tuesday, October 14, 1969 | ||
In The Waterbucket
Pageantry
& Punch
With Hugh Antrim
If I hadn't gotten to City Stadium so early the whole thing
might never have happened. It was bad enough to have missed the
Illuminated Parade up Broad Street into Parker Field Friday
night, but to have passed up the show on the tube as well was
really dumb.
So after a fitful sleep I arrived at the stadium around 10 a.m.,
much too early, for there was little if anything going on. To my
great fortune, upon scurrying round the playing field, I spied
Gino making his way into the press box with a huge Santa
Claus-like sack over his shoulder. Inspired by curiosity with such a
sight and bored by the prospect of chatting with some unlucky
Keydets (unlucky first because they were Keydets, and second
because they were destined to defeat), I set off up the steps to
locate Gino.
Well lo and behold - upon arrival behind the press box there
were Gino and Barney, and they were busy making some strange
concoction they called "Wahoo Punch." It wasn't long before
they had persuaded me to help with the mixing and the tasting of
the first batch. That, friends, was my first real error of the day.
A good hour later I sashayed down to the field to inspect the
floats, bands and princesses who were assembling for the
pre-game show. I was still a little early. The Keydet band was
ready to go, but the Ferko Wonder Bread String Band had yet to
roll in. I wound up talking to a Melville Finch who allowed he
could get me an autograph of Mr. Peter Graves for just $1.
Infinitely aroused that this thief would try to con me on a
football day, I tried to force his price down to a bargain 50 cents.
In the midst of all this fanfare came that mystical and spiritual
aroma that was unmistakably of "Wahoo punch."
I went back across the stadium and once again made my way
to the press box. Gino was setting up for the game, but Barney
invited me to have some more, uh, Gator Ade. He couldn't fool
me - I knew it was "Wahoo punch." Well, there was a good half
hour until kickoff, so I partook. The next thing I knew, the
resounding and melodic sounds of the Good Old Song came
prancing in one ear and out the other.
The scoreboard read Virginia 21 VMI 0, but I was
determined to get my interview on the Ferko Wonder Bread
String Band, so I set out again for the opposite side of the field
but with noticeably less resolve.
The band was just about set to perform, and I was about to
forget the whole thing. Then I saw this one extra uniform in the
truck. With all journalistic brilliance I robed myself in the
gloriously pink outfit,grabbed a pair of cymbals and took my
place in the formation.
No one would have known of my cunning had not that nut
recognized me and promised the autograph of Graves for just 75
cents. The chief Ferko was very angry indeed, and he picked me
up and tossed me into the trunk of one of the cars. I was really
thankful I had remembered to bring along a little Wahoo Punch
from that last batch - just in case of emergency.
I never heard the Good Old Song again; only that ridiculously
loud Keydet cannon could raise me from my misery. I pounded and pounded, and finally they let me out. Just as I was about to
persuade that Mel guy to get me the autograph for 25 cents, Gino
came running up.
Apparently he had spent all halftime working over a new form
of refreshment. Rejoicing that his "Cavalier Fruit Cup" was just
great, I was persuaded to try a sip (I was really thirsty). Gino
watched with glee as I put the "Cavalier Fruit Cup" through my
parched throat. It was only plain Gator Ade I just about
self-destructed on the spot.
The Cavalier daily Tuesday, October 14, 1969 | ||