| Telegraph article! (1-26-03) |
| Call them the Crazies. Everybody does. Long before the opening buzzer sends Gillespie's undefeated, state-ranked boys high school Miners onto the basketball court against another rival, the Coal Mine Crazies are squeezing into the home team's front-row bleachers and warming up. Armed with an authentic eye chart for the refs and pint-sized megaphones to reach every opponent's ear, the self-appointed band of buddies, and a few girls, begin kicking up a ruckus that never quits. They sing, they swoon, they pound the floor, they sway in a wave of white t-shirts and hats plastered with orange and black Miner themes and nicknames to boost the team. And once the Miners rip through the paper door held by the official cheerleaders at floor level to fill their end of the court with the first barrage of balls, the Crazies' bench erupts into a bounding, shouting line of hometown pride. Tonight, against Carlinville, the Crazies come dressed in black suits and over starched, white shirts with golden Blues Brothers ties. The sober uniform is their answer to complaints after the last football match-up with Carlinville that ended in the charge that Gillespie had no class. "It's a long story," said Brian Hubert, 19, of Benld who graduated last year but still joins in the fun between classes at Illinois College, where he studies religion The Crazies call him chaplain and tease about his "real Eagle Scout" status. "But when they need to start a fire or change a tire, they count on me," Hubert added. Tonight he was lighting the charcoal in the barbecue grill set up in the school parking lot before the game. Dozens of "waffle burgers," bought frozen at 20 for $5 the day before, are sizzling and ready for each hungry Crazy as they gather at the glowing coals an hour before game time. John Bertetto, 18, of Benld, a pre-med student at Blackburn College, supervises the seasonings and the fixings. As one of the founding Crazies, he's intent on training the new recruits to keep the tradition intact, particularly the tailgate party before every home game that even a 20-degree northwest wind whipping through suit coats cannot deter. "We've always had a leader - the Mad Miner - but we're a team. We're very resourceful," he said. "Whoever gets here does it," Bertetto said, describing the tailgate grilling routine. Somebody always brings what's needed, but that can change with each game, he said. "And some are good cooks," senior Neil Blevins added. "We do hot dogs, hamburgers, and pork burgers, but you have to watch how you cook the pork." Like many high schools, the team's official mascot reflects the town's main industry, which in Gillespie was once coal mining. Everything they do is related to the mines, although only one Crazy, sophomore Tim Ribes, has a father still working the mines [not exactly true, Brad Heyen's dad is also]. They picked up the theme and their name from the somtimes silly and sometimes outrageous ways they cheer the team [on]. "During one game, Dane Gray lost his shoe on the court but scored anyway," Blevins said. Now, every time the senior hits a basket, the Crazies may take a shoe off and wave it at him. At the Carlinville game, the Crazies went one step further and tied black dress shoes by their strings along the bleacher handrail near their seats until Gray scored too many to count and the shoe volunteers ran out [correction: the shoes were deemed a "safety issue" by our dean of students. Actually we had more shoe volunteers than total points that game.] The Crazies came to life three years ago during a holiday tournament when the guys, mostly veterans of the football season, began rooting long and loud for their buddies on the basketball team. They devised new cheers, copied the old standards and added their own twist of humor. "Give me a B. Give me a BB [a.k.a. two B's]. [Give me a big B! Give me a little b! ] Give me 4 Bs. Give me 8 Bs. What do you have [what's that spell]? B-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b," is the answer, shouted through pouting lips fluttering up and down with the help of an index fingers. It always ends with a laugh. |
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