His green Converse high tops have white laces. His green-and-white striped socks are pulled up over his green-and-white striped wind pants, which are layered underneath a pair of athletic shorts -- one leg green, the other white. On the back of his white t-shirt, in green letters, is the slogan: "One College. One Tradition. Victory." Green leis adorn his neck, and a green cowbell hangs from a Dartmouth ribbon. His cheeks are painted with white and green stripes. A green bandana holds back a shoulder-length wig -- one half dyed white, the other green. He is screaming. And screaming.
This is Josh Drake '08, the official "yell leader" of Dartmouth athletics, bringing "a voice crying out" to a whole a new level. This is the Homecoming football game, his fourth. Drake hasn't missed a single home football game in his entire Dartmouth career.
Earlier this fall I attended a high school football game in another universe: Austin, Texas. Instant replays flashed across the jumbotron; every seat had a cup holder. At halftime, the field crawled with literally hundreds of cheerleaders. Josh Drake would've fit in perfectly.
But at Dartmouth, Drake is an island in a largely apathetic sea of spectators. There is no jumbotron and just a few timid cheerleaders; you'd think the home of Keggy would have cup holders galore, but no. During halftime, the announcer introduces the Dartmouth College "Meandering Band," and they live up to their name. The crowd claps politely, chants "defense" at the appropriate times, and alums facetime with long lost hook-ups.
Meanwhile, Drake bellows through his huge green bullhorn, trying to rally the crowd. The "yell leader" is a tradition that dates back to Dartmouth's bachelor days, when there were no women to make up a cheerleading squad; one or two men were designated to direct the crowd. The tradition fell off in the 1990s with the advent of Dartmouth's cheerleaders and the decline of football's general grip on the campus. This past summer, football coach Buddy Teevens approached Drake about reviving the tradition.
Drake hasn't missed a single home football game in the past three seasons, during which time Dartmouth has racked up a total of five wins. Five. Out of 30 games. Drake, though, is undaunted.
"I'm not the guy on the field making the tackle or the big play or scoring the points," Drake said, "but there is a feeling that you're out there, trying to make an impact with the crowd -- you share in the highs and lows of the team. You're riding the highs, if they're doing well, and to a certain degree you've got to ride out the lows."
This year, since Drake has been installed in his official capacity, the squad has gone 2-4 (2-1 Ivy), including a win during the illustrious Homecoming game this past Saturday.
Drake's path to uber-fandom began in Spanaway, Wash. In middle school, he looked up to the high school varsity teams, and by the time he got to high school, Drake was already bordering on fanatic at a school where sports were taken very seriously -- the school's cross-town rivals were implicated when Drake's home stands burned down.
"I wasn't good enough to play any of the major sports at my high school," he said. "I lettered in debate."
But Drake took his commitment to fandom very seriously, and by his senior year became what he called "a ringleader."
Drake's dedication to Dartmouth athletics is equal, if not even more intense. Sitting down for an interview, Drake was sporting a Dartmouth basketball t-shirt and a Big Green baseball cap.
"To me, it's as much of an activity as being involved in the D, or a language club, or an orchestra," Drake said of his commitment to attending as many games as possible. "It meets on a regular schedule. You schedule yourself around it. It does take discipline, in terms of studying, like anything [does]."
Drake is a classics major with a focus on ancient history, as well as a minor in Asian and Middle Eastern languages and literatures. Besides screaming his heart out on at least a biweekly basis, Drake is also a member of the senior leadership of the Navigators, a Christian organization on campus. Drake plans to attend seminary after Dartmouth, plus or minus a year or two off.
"They won't have a football team there," Drake said, "so I'll still be cheering for Dartmouth."
Drake chuckled at the comparison of his faith and his faithfulness to Dartmouth athletics.
"I'm as passionate about my faith as I am about sports, even more passionate," he said. "You do learn to become a lot more forgiving towards your boys than you do towards just any team."
Drake can always be spotted at home football games, but he also makes a point of attending as many basketball and hockey games as he can. As yell leader, he is mostly interested in keeping the crowd as loud as possible. There is, of course, the occasional bout of heckling. Drake doesn't necessarily have a cheer philosophy, though "there is definitely a line you can cross, I mean, if you're after a guy for a whole game with personal stuff," Drake said, trailing off, looking less than sympathetic.
"I'm not quite as energetic at women's games though -- there's just something different about heckling a woman," he says. "Maybe it's the gentleman in me, and I don't mean to sound sexist, but I just don't feel comfortable insulting a woman."
If anyone has the best interest of Dartmouth athletics at heart, it's Drake. His opinions on the sports culture here are strong and entrenched. On cheerleaders: "The squad is definitely growing exponentially, they definitely have a place in the culture here. But to a certain degree, it's not quite getting the crowd involved -- it's cheerleading, it's complicated, and hard for the whole crowd to follow."
And on the dreaded Dartmoose: "I'm as opposed as they come to the Dartmoose. While it is large, does cause traffic accidents and is imposing, it's mostly just slow, dumb, lonely and when it does kill somebody it kills itself. That's not something that would inspire anybody."
Which is exactly what Drake is trying to do: inspire. To him, though, his devotion to Dartmouth athletics doesn't seem particularly out of the ordinary. The strength of our home field advantage is a responsibility he feels towards his friends and peers; it's an extension of himself. He doesn't follow professional sports nearly as rabidly; it's just not the same.
"My feeling always with college athletics is that you're more invested, more plugged in to the team, what's going on," he said. "While the Red Sox might represent you or your community, it's a company. They're out there making money. In college, it's just you."
He pauses.
"It's just you, and your peers. We've all got a stake in this, you know?"
