The townriot act

Robert Henry Becker Arizona Daily Wildcat Fans get a little out of hand on a lampost outside O'Malley's on Fourth Avenue.

I was at Gentle Ben's during the championship game a week or so ago, when the Wildcats beat KENTUCKY, not Kansas as my story from two days later stated. Let me say this right off the bat - I did not write that fucking sentence. Yes I was working during the game, unlike the rest of the town who was busy getting drunk and biting their nails over what has to have been one of the better basketball games I have ever seen (I've seen three).I learned what it means to be a reporter -I am speaking of the life of a news-hound, a mole, a.k.a Wildcat reporter. Do you think I actually enjoyed carrying a tape recorder around asking a bunch of drunks their opinion on the game?

The sick thing is isthat I did like it. In this business, if you don't like what you are doing you might as well not be doing it.There are other bonuses being in this buisness. Like braving tear gas in last week's riots. I shouldn't boast such heroics - I'm no Wolf Blitzer - and I didn't see any tear gas. What I did see was a lot of drunk people acting like morons. Furthermore, it wasn't tear gas as local TV news coverage would have you believe. Five percent of the gas used was actual tear gas. The rest of it was pepper spray, according to Tucson Police Department. Pepper spray people, and as one girl told me, "my eyes itched a little bit". If it was tear gas, she would have been hurting. But they kept playing that video clip of police in riot gear advancing towards a looming cloud of gas. It looked more like the West Bank than north Fourth Avenue. Meatheads of all shapes and sizes were leaning out of cars, screaming, giving high-fives to complete strangers. I can't say I understand the attitude - Hey we won! Lets go destroy stuff so our own tax dollars can replace it. On my quest to get fans' reactions I heard a lot of stupid stuff. "If we win tonight we will all get laid," or, "When this game is over we are going to find every car with Kentucky plates and flip it over."I guess that explains the overturned police car. As you know the serious nature of the "riots" meant we had to call in reinforcements all the way from Kentucky. I know because Bud Foster told me so. Maybe I dreamed that part.

-D. Shayne Christie

When we got to O'Malley's about two hours before the game started, there was already a line in front of the bar. My friends Brandon and Erin made an excellent observation, "Where were all these people three months ago?"

People inside the bar had been drinking since early afternoon. I was pretty jealous. There's nothing like an afternoon of drinking. One girl was so lit she came up to me while I was talking to someone and said, "I love you," then continued to harass me until I wrote it down on my notepad. Then she said, "I really do" and walked away. Only one word comes to mind: random.

The whole night I was dealing with split personality issues. Arizona basketball fan vs. objective reporter. Before the game I had a lot of nervous energy - I really wanted our guys to win. As the end of the game neared and Arizona's win was evident, an emotional electricity shocked the bar that could've probably lit Las Vegas. I knew I would have to try to report the chaos to follow.

Everyone flooded into the streets, some of us pushed out by the bar bouncers, and started the party that would go late into the night. I gave so many high-five's my hand got sore. Some of the best shit I heard I never got to quote because it happened during the madness. "This makes being a six-year senior all worthwhile. I'm glad I didn't graduate early now" and "Wooo, U of A fucking rocks."

As I left Fourth Avenue, a girl walked in front of my car and flashed me by lifing up her skirt screaming, "U of A's number 1." and I thought, "Wow, what a night."

-John Brown

There is a certain air of urgency when you're photographing a moving crowd. I could feel the power of the mob. Even the guys that tight-rope walked the trolley lines had thousands of comparably insane people cheering them on. It was a crazy bunch of people doing somewhat unlawful activity; ahh, a photographer's paradise.

All of these people were celebrating Arizona's win or just being hoodlums, it doesn't really matter which. I was trying to compose, focus, actually keep a hold of my camera and fight off this one guy who kept feeling my butt. Another female photog and myself confered that we have never been felt up more or seen more dick in one night. Scary.

There were moments when I actually was scared of the masses. When I realized people were standing on an overturned car, it wasn't a moving crowd for me anymore. It was a classified riot. But I loved it! We all did. Every reporter and photographer that was there slipped into the sick passion for chaos.

I ran into a party of buck naked guys splashing about in the Old Main fountain. Granted it was nothing I hadn't seen before, but I felt like a tabloid papparazzi shooting something I shouldn't. Ahh, who cares. But at least the birthday suit boys didn't tug on my sleeve and say,"Hey cameralady, take my picture." I Eventually stopped taking pictures of these fans and just popped my camera flash. Sorry about that, but you were satisfied. We all were. Some flashing more than others.

-Katherine K. Gardiner

We had witnessed the unthinkable. Somehow, we all felt like we were a part of it.

Out of the bars, restaurants and apartment buildings we poured onto the streets in disbelief. For a brief awkward moment, thousands of people stood dumbfounded in the middle of an intersection. Several rolls of toilet paper streamed through the sky, falling gently upon the crowd."We did it!" screamed a voice from within the mob. But what had "we" done? Actually, we hadn't done much. But what's wrong with living vicariously?For one night, a group of basketball players inspired tens of thousands of people to forget their problems and join the love-fest that swept through the streets. For one night, Tucson Arizona felt like the best place on earth.Where else does beer flow freely, as naked people dance on roof tops, and fraternity boys and gangsters come together to share warm embraces? Parading down the middle of the street, slapping high fives with complete strangers, I felt invincible. We all felt invincible.

For over three hours the only word that came from my mouth was: "Wooooooooooooooo!"I said it a lot. Any other words would have ruined the moment. For the first time in my life I fully supported the mob mentality.So, a few over zealous fans got a little rough and turned over a cop car. Nothing could tarnish my memories of that night. I was proud to be a part of the screaming masses.So, wearing only my left shoe, I streaked down Forth Avenue to share in the love. "Wooooooooooooooo!"

-Todd Hardy (Yes folks, he was off duty)