I read recently that prosecutors in Orlando, FL are charging 12 former Florida A&M University band members with manslaughter as a result of a 2011 hazing death of a drum major.
Band members? Lol, I know, right?
Anyway, the guy died as a result of a hazing ritual that had probably been perpetrated for years and years without incident. Well, without death anyway.
Hazing is one of those things that I have absolutely no use for in life.
When I was a freshman in college, it was understood that older members (members, lol) of the soccer team were going to haze the younger ones, namely, the freshmen.
I was ok with that. Traditions are traditions, right?
My freshman year, most of my teammates were sophomores, so it’s not like they’d been around that long themselves.
Instead of recalling what a pain in the ass it was for them to be hazed just the year before and relenting, it apparently made them all a bunch of sadistic fucks hell bent on being pricks any chance they could.
I like jokes or pranks or whatever as much as the next guy, but this shit isn’t funny.
I have a friend with a son who is a quadriplegic because of a college hazing accident.
There’s nothing entertaining about being a college football player one minute and a quadriplegic the next, right?
Anyway, our team pranks weren’t anything as severe as what you’d see in frat and even sorority houses around the country every year.
There were no beatings or dangerous stunts, but it was never ending and mentally draining, which made life a semi-nightmare.
My first experience happened while I was at a party just off campus. Even though I’m sure I was three sheets to the wind, I remember vividly being seated in a chair in the living room with a lovely coed on my lap.
While in the middle of trying to get to know one of my fellow classmates, the door is thrown open and here come some familiar faces.
Fucking sophomore soccer players…
I was grabbed from my chair and thrown into the back of a pickup truck where I was stripped to my undies. These guys REALLY had a thing for naked and near naked dudes!
I didn’t resist because these were my teammates and I was willing to play along to some extent. If this is tradition then whatever…go for it.
So I’m nearly naked, blindfolded and then finally tossed out of the truck and into a cornfield in the middle of the night.
While being chucked into a cornfield in nothing but one’s underwear is probably pure bliss to a country boy, I weren’t no country boy!
All I knew about cornfields is that Malachi and those other little creepy children of the corn dwelled within them, and I was nearly freaking the fuck out!
When I finally got my ass out of the cornfield, I had no idea where I was. I was on some road and I assumed those demented bastards had left me 50 miles away from my dorm room.
I started walking and it turned out I was only a few hundred yards away. I hadn’t been at the school for more than a couple of weeks and I didn’t have a car that year, so I didn’t know my way around the surrounding area at all.
So, drunk and pissed off, I find my way back to campus and have to walk right past a large group of people hanging out in front of another dorm (thankfully, I wasn’t an unsightly fatass back in my soccer playing days) to get back to my own room.
My roomate later told me that he was in that group. He said that they were a bunch of Christians having some sort of Christian Group meeting. He also told me that they had prayed for me personally! Awe, thanks!
Well they didn’t pray hard enough, because that wasn’t my only hazing incident.
All of us freshman were brought to some bar called Granny’s Rocker one Wednesday night against our will. We were encouraged to drink liquor before going (no problem there).
I’m fairly certain you had to be 21 to get in, but somebody knew someone and got us all into the place. Fuckin’ yay!! It was a good sized joint that had a band and a separate stage where they held what I can only recollect as being called a bikini contest. For men.
There was probably one for women as well, but were were all forced to dance in this stupid Wednesday night men’s contest for the amusement of a packed house and our tormenting teammates.
I actually had fun because I was liquored up on whiskey. Whiskey makes Donnie carefree!!!
I ended up taking second place in a pair of stunning boxer shorts (at the time I was undecided about boxers v. briefs and this was apparently a boxer night).
The first place winner was a real stroke. One of these guys.
I bet he was completely sober and probably won the event every week. Way to go, sir, enjoy your $20 prize!
It turned out that one of my aunt’s boyfriends was playing in the band and my own mother had a friend in the audience who got to enjoy the show and pass it all on to ma for her amusement. Mercifully, cell phone cameras were not a thing yet!
As if the men of the soccer team hadn’t seen enough of my body up to this point, there was one last incident to help them get their jollies off.
Those sickos had taken a liking to shaving the pubes off of some of the players as a prank.
That’s probably not a big deal nowadays, but back when men were men and not metrosexual pansies, we didn’t shave our bodies unless we were swimming in an Olympic trial heat or something.
We were on a road trip somewhere in Wisconsin in late October or early November and it was COOOOOLD!!!!
They’d already gotten one of my buddies and shaved him up real good so I’d made up my mind that I was sick and tired of all of this and wasn’t about to let another man or group of men shave my anything without putting up a fight.
The short of the story is that I ended up duct taped naked to a chair. NAKED, of course! What it was with those guys and other men’s genitals, I’ll never know!
Anyway, there was no shaving in store for Don that night. Instead, they lifted the chair with me sitting on it and put me outside of the hotel in the freezing cold for way too long. In the meantime, they’d invited some ladies over for a party (I know, we were the worst team ever) so it was quite a sight for all of them to see me taped nude to a chair in the Wisconsin winter with my already tiny pecker trying it’s best to crawl INSIDE my body for some warmth! Aye Carumba!
While it really was all meant to be in good fun, I disliked many of the more “enthusiastic” assholes for the entire duration of our time together at school.
The mind games were completely unnecessary. Kids starting college are already worrying about how to fit in socially, grades, and those of us in sports have to worry about fitting that in to our schedules, not to mention worrying about how to get enough drinking in.
To spend every other moment wondering when a crazed group of Old School the movie type characters was going to come crashing through a fence in an A-Team van and whisk me away to God knows where just sucked some of the fun out of that whole year for me.
My senior year, none of that was allowed.
Fun pranks and drinking are one thing, but I personally had no desire to touch another man’s junk or even to have to look at it.
No offense men, but those things ain’t pretty.