The path to discovering the secrets of Pepperdine nightlife leads from Poopball to The Shire.
David Miller
Staff Writer
What keeps Pepperdine students awake through the wee hours of night? A seemingly simple question with many possible answers.
When I ventured into the night I was not interested in homework, television, movies, talking with friends or anything that might fall under the umbrella of banal. I wanted to find the students who got noise complaints from their neighbors, the students who were used to having Public Safety officers bang on their door. I was looking for things that go bump in the night.
My search began at 1 a.m. as I sauntered through the halls of my own dorm. Suddenly I heard a loud outburst, voices cheering in victory. I ran down to A-suite only to stumble upon eight rowdy gentlemen playing a strange, new game — Poopball. Yes, Poopball.
The game’s contestants kick a small, foam ball against the wall, imposing strikes for various mistakes. Contestants are eliminated when they receive three strikes and the last man standing is crowned victor. Losers are subject to humiliation and being pelted with the official game ball. Think XFL meets professional women’s soccer.
“It started out as a joke, just a stupid game,” Poopball inventor Seth Thompson said. “But now we take it pretty seriously.”
I must confess, I was intrigued and even played a few rounds. I was impressed by the originality of these guys, I felt safe in assuming that nobody else on campus was staying up to play Poopball. But it was now 2 a.m. and time for me to move on.
I decided that it would be remiss of me to ignore the epicenter of all documented disturbances so I headed up the hill to the Lovernich Apartment Complex. No sooner had I entered the main courtyard than I heard people shouting through their window. I was not so surprised by the fact that they were yelling at 2 o’clock in the morning, but at what they were yelling: “Frodo! Frodo! Frodo!”
Hmmm . . . OK. I immediately knocked on the door and was greeted by four apparently normal young men. They took me in and informed me that they were in the midst of an “intense” game of the Lord of the Rings edition of Risk. That would explain the chanting and the empty cans of Mountain Dew strewn across the floor.
Before I even sat down one of the players, Danny Seiden, explained.
“We are not nerds. My uncle gave me the game for Christmas.”
Almost before he finished one of his roommates, Josh Wilcox, chimed in.
“But we do call our apartment The Shire in honor of Tolkien.”
Laughter ensued. I sat there and observed the fate of Middle Earth unfold before me. I watched as the blood of miniature plastic Elves and Orcs was spilled on the battlefield. Finally at 4:14 a.m. the forces of evil vanquished the Fellowship. There were promises of a rematch, but I could see by the pain in Wilcox’s eyes that it was a dark day in The Shire.
As I stumbled back to my room, half asleep, I wondered if I had found what I was looking for. While the students that I met might not have been the ones who knew the Public Safety officers by name, I still got to see a side of Pepperdine that most students do not. It wasn’t pretty but it wouldn’t be the nightlife if it were.
— What’s your story? E-mail graphic@pepperdine.edu.
February 06, 2003
