ALEX IN WONDERLAND: Battling That Creeping Feeling

Creeping. We all know what it is, and whether or not we’d like to admit it, we’ve all done our fair share of it.

However, for the small number of you out there that are completely unaware of this semi-shady social reality, a brief series of examples can serve as quick enlightenment. Creeping is nonchalantly perusing through the Facebook of that girl that sits across from you in section. Or strategically positioning yourself in the dining hall servery to be able to read the details on that guy in your house’s warm-up jacket, figuring out just what sport he got that classy gray DHA tuxedo from. Rounding out the order, both GoCrimson.com player bios and the Harvard College Facebook serve as legitimate means of gaining major creeper points.

That being said, most of us have not utilized all of these means of creeping, nor do we let ourselves fall over to the dark side of information-gathering every day. And, although it might seem counterintuitive, sometimes a very small population of us is simply forced down this slippery slope of knowing way too much about complete and utter strangers. By small population, I mean myself, and through the course of my extracurricular choices, I have unwittingly become the largest DHA creeper at Harvard.

Successfully serving as a sports writer can only be achieved through an impressive depth of knowledge about a number of athletes here at our college. Most writers cover at least two beats each year, leading to an intense one-sided relationship with the athletes on one’s respective teams. Watching the players compete in every match, piling up statistics over the course of the season, finding out little personal tidbits that will develop into intriguing features, occasionally getting thank-you notes from pleased parents—it simulates becoming the best of friends with someone who may not be able to recognize you in passing. This, coupled with the constant discussion about what has happened recently in Crimson sports and who really had the best game of the week, leads to a massive accumulation of knowledge about relative strangers.

However, it gets worse—I am also a cheerleader. To most of you, cheerleaders may not seem to be the creepiest of individuals, what with the constant peppiness and unfaltering school spirit. Yet one of the many hazards of the job is developing this same attachment to unknowing athletes. Four hours a week of yelling about how amazing the Harvard football and basketball players are, and the required intensity of concentration on game occurrences, can easily lead to that same best-friend mentality. More dangerous, cheering also results in a large amount of name and face-recognition that is often not returned.

Being the only current Harvard student combining Crimson sportswriting with Crimson cheerleading has bestowed upon me a mental directory of Harvard’s athletes, the likes of which could only be achieved by someone spending hours every day utilizing each of the aforementioned means of creeping. This may not seem to be the most alarming of situations, but when you throw a bit of personal awkwardness into the mix, the potential for embarrassment abounds.

The first, and mildest, of the many side effects of these unbalanced relationships is the accidental wave. Having occurred more times than I would like to admit, the accidental wave results from momentarily forgetting that the athletes you write or cheer about do not know you as well as you know them. For example, last year in the Yard, I spotted an individual on one of the teams I consistently cover. Approaching him, who I could easily pick out in a crowd while rattling off his impressive rookie statistics, I smiled and gave a big wave. The response was a look of confusion, and as soon as I passed him, I realized my faux pas. This athlete and I had never actually met—I had never even interviewed him! Repeat this about once a month, and you begin to get the picture of what being a true DHA creeper is really like.

Another consequence of knowing so much about individuals with whom you are not technically acquainted manifests itself in the need to always be on one’s toes. Learning early in my freshman year that most people do not find it endearing to be greeted with their recent athletic conquests upon a first introduction, I find myself always on high alert, pretending not to recognize those who are secretly my game-day best friends.

A quick personal anecdote to illustrate this danger can be seen in my interactions only a few weekends ago. Through mutual contacts, I found myself in the room of a blocking group of teammates from one of the sports for which I cheer. I made my way around the little shindig, becoming “introduced” to each of the inhabitants, one of whom I recognized instantly for the rather nice reception he’d made a few games prior. Instead of commending him, however, I chose to mispronounce his name, acting as if I hadn’t heard correctly. The rest of my time there was likewise spent on guard.

Whether or not you are used to being bitten by the awkward turtle, unwittingly revealing one’s inner creeper is never pleasant. So, now when you fight the urge to wave at that warm-ups boy from your house, or comment on that girl in section’s Facebook pictures, remember it could be worse—with the largest number of varsity teams of any Division I university, being a secret Harvard DHA creeper is no easy task.

—Staff writer Alexandra J. Mihalek can be reached at amihalek@fas.harvard.edu.