Mashing the potatoes

Savannah Burchfiel

Rather than seeing the back of the baseball fields, the couch potatoes will be seeing the front of a fence this year. A new fence has suddenly appeared at the start of the cross country trail, conveniently blocking the potatoes from their home territory.

There’s nothing behind the fence but an empty field. However, there must be some malignant force behind the building of the fence. Where did this fence come from? Who decided to be so harsh to us? Why is it holding us back? What will we do now? Confused students across the school are asking these questions.

Last year, the couch potatoes were practically famous for their heckling. Regardless of whether the spirit was positive or negative, it was spirit. However, their prime purpose was what led to their ruin. Quiet adults couldn’t handle the loud high-schoolers.

Without mentioning any names, we all know who the obnoxiously loud fans were. With last year’s senior class graduated, this year’s seniors deserve their chance for fame through heckling. Baseball is the last sport’s season for proud Timberwolf seniors to profess their pride in their teams.

Although the fence sure seems like a damper on the coach potatoes’ parade, there is no stopping the spirit. A fence may hold back the couch-equipped trucks from the field, but there’s no way to put up a fence for loud, heckling fans. The potatoes will be moving from the backfield to the stands, and the rest of the fans will have to deal with them in a new close proximity. When the situation is looked at this way, the fence does not stop obnoxious or profane yelling. The fence only brings the true action closer to the field.

If the baseball team can play on their field, why can’t the coach potatoes sit on theirs?