So I’m sitting on the couch with my computer on my lap, eating a few Sun Chips I found lying in a bag on the floor, annoying my roommates who are trying to work with meaningless chatter until they finally move to another room. I continuously click the “reload” button on my Internet browser in the hope that someone may have sent me an interesting email in the past two seconds. Just another Wednesday night.

Very rarely, I actually do get an e-mail that I care to read. ore often, the e-mails I get are of one of two types.

The first type is the one that comes from my mom and asks me why I haven’t found a job yet, usually with a postscript explaining that my dad has unequivocally stated that I cannot live in their house after I graduate.

The second is the type I get from the university, announcing the date of some lecture I don’t want to go to.

I usually delete both types after reading the first couple lines. This time I’m glad I didn’t.

While I was sitting there, clicking, I felt somewhat ambivalent because, on the one hand, the Hoyas just lost a game to Notre Dame that would most likely made us a lock for a tournament bid, and on the other hand, I was still giggling inside because, during that same telecast, I got to see Fighting Irish Head Coach Mike Brey pick his ear and then eat it.

But then I got an email from Student Affairs that was actually worth reading.

You probably got it, too. It’s a delightful little newsletter sent out by the Hoya Hoops Club, cleverly named the Hoya Hoops Scoop.

I found, to my surprise, that I actually enjoyed reading through this newsletter. In addition to the nifty rhyme in its name, the Hoya Hoops Scoop caught my attention because it conveyed a sense of excitement about the team, along with a recap of what’s happened so far this season, to a lot of people on this campus who would probably not otherwise even know we had a basketball team.

I don’t think I even need to plead for people to come to the games anymore. The word has already caught on.

On the bus to the Seton Hall game, I was surrounded by freshman girls who admitted they had hardly ever watched basketball before, but were still excited to go to the game. Maybe they were just enthused (and it was obviously a factor in some cases) about getting a chance to put on poodle skirts and leg warmers for the ESPN Classic telecast, but I’d like to think they were drawn there by a real sense of school spirit.

At the West Virginia game last weekend, I looked down from the balcony seat I reluctantly accepted because my dad, who was with me, couldn’t quite pass for a student, and I saw an arena that, if not full, was almost there. After going to games where the student section has been only half full and teams from Syracuse to Duke to UCLA had more fans at the MCI Center than we had, it was a happy sight to see. And it seems like it’s only getting better.

That said, here’s my one complaint.

At each of the last two home games we’ve played, I’ve noticed that about half the fans in the student section leave a few minutes before the game ends.

I’m not going to say you can’t leave. Personally, I think it’s pointless to come sit through nineteen minutes of a basketball game and then leave with one minute left, but if you want to do that, it’s your prerogative.

The problem is that when the rest of us fans who stay for the end of the game get outside the arena and look for the busses back to Georgetown, they’re all gone. They leave with all the students who get out of their seats while the clock’s still running.

We’ve finally got fans to the game. Now let’s let them stay there until the end.

Have a reaction to this article? Write a letter to the editor.

Comments are closed.