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I’m 12 feet off the ground, sitting atop Brain Werner’s oh-so-chiseled shoulders. Surrounded by a chanting mob of face-painted, axe-wielding college students Werner breaks for open ground.
He escapes to the outer bounds of this mass of bodies and searches the faces for our familiar blue and gold. Suddenly, from within the confines of this undulating blob, our fellow Vikings burst forth. Once again united, we charge back into the pile, this time with authority. Our voices tangle with those of other enthusiasts, but I, all the while a passenger on this crazy ride, from my perched position atop Werner’s shoulders, can distinguish only one cry: “AUGIE! AUGIE! AUUUGIE!”
Such was Division II cross country nationals on Nov. 21, 2009.
Believe it or not, our journey began in a more civilized fashion. After all our gear was packed into the trunk and backseat of the car, my fellow road warriors and I nestled into our seats for what we knew was to be a long drive. Mapquest predicted 12 hours, 48 minutes. I wanted to make it in 10.
Fortunately, my copilot senior Adam Broin brought along his binoculars. So, from the passenger seat, he kept his eyes buried in those binoculars, fixed on the median and oncoming traffic ahead, searching for anything that looked like a police cruiser. We barreled down I-29 at 95 mph for no other reason than that we could. Cross country fans like to go fast.
Finally, after hitting rush hour in Kansas City and barreling through Illinois on a highway that seemed next to abandoned, we arrived at our destination: Evansville, Ind. We’d covered 789 miles in just under 11 hours and were ready to rage.
Early the next morning, race day, Brian woke early to shave his hell-black bird’s nest of a beard into a sideburns/mustache combination that leaves most of the women and children frightened. What’s more, he flaunted a pair of cut-off jean shorts and aviator sunglasses that send him spiraling backward in time to 1982.
Scrawling the familiar “AC” of Augustana across his chest in blue and gold body paint, Werner looked like he was ready for war. Choosing to let my cheering to the talking for me, I instead opted for the quieter, though equally as revealing, spandex track suit. Also in attendance was none other than Augustana’s own Ole the Viking. I have to give it to Ole; cross country isn’t exactly known for being a spectator sport, but this guy was right there alongside everyone else, making the charge from one corner of the course to the other despite the 60-lb incubator that disguised him a cartoon Viking.
Just before the start of the women’s race, a lonely group of Southern Indiana fans standing in the middle of the course found themselves hopelessly surrounded by the ferocious Chico State. Chants of “Cheeeeeeek-O!” resonate throughout the team camps.
Let the games begin.
Hundreds of fans from all teams sprinted toward Chico in an attempt to knock them off their pedestal. Chaos ensues. Mascots from opposing teams literally fist-fight on the outskirts of the mob, the one trying to de-head the other. Shirtless bodies fly into the air and back into the arms of their brethren. I can muster an “Augie!” through my laughter. Division II cross country fans are nuts.
Oh yeah, I almost forgot: the women’s team got 13th and the men finished 10th . . . in the nation.
We partied.
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