What, exactly, is the state of sports at Wesleyan? Will you be able to run your personal best in the half-marathon, feel the life-affirming crunch of a fellow man’s bones beneath your cleated heel, or smoke a fat doob while tossing the ‘bee? The answers, my friend, are yes, no, yes.
Basketball: “Our cagers are taller by a head than your cagers!” Ah! So often do I hear this thund’rous cheer echoing from the buckling bleachers to the resounding rafters of, um… Famousworth A. Wesleyan Basketball Win-a-torium. Wesleyan’s basketball team has a long and storied history, which can easily be looked up by any interested party.
Crew: Check out the T-shirts and baseball caps that say “WESCREW.” Those are the merchandise of Wesleyan’s rowing team. The legend “WESCREW” can be read both as the unassuming and supportive “Wes Crew,” or as the subversively sexual “We Screw,” a bold announcement that the students of Wesleyan Univeristy do engage in sexual intercourse. Purchase a shirt. Don’t wear it at home, because your parents would be embarrassed. Don’t wear it at school, because the crew guys would beat you. But you do have to buy it.
Football: Wesleyan football regularly gets pounded into the musky earth. When it comes to football, Wesleyan is the littlest of the Little Three. And yet we somehow produced Bill Belichik ’71 and Eric Mangini ’90-something. Nobody can explain this.
Lacrosse: Lacrosse is very important to rich white boys from New England, for whom it is an occasion to remember the American Indian tribes who died to make way for Greenwich, Connecticut.
Track & Field: Wesleyan’s Track & Field team regularly practices on the latest equipment, including Hyper Sports, Konami ’88, and Nagano Winter Olympics ’98. They also have a Power Glove so you can play Mike Tyson’s Punch Out!!.
Wrestling: Sweaty men in spandex grappling each other: either the wrestling team or a party at Eclectic. Because of Wesleyan’s high tolerance for alternate sexualities, our wrestling team has an obvious advantage.
X-country: X-country runners are so obsessed with cutting their times that they can hardly bear to speak or write the entire word “cross-country,” and therefore usually abbreviate it as “X-country,” or even “X-C.” This remarkable linguistic brevity is what allows Wesleyan runners to slash the fractions of a second that make all the difference in the 50-meter dash, which unfortunately is not a cross-country event.