As the clinching game of the Baton Rouge super regional mercifully came to an end, and Stony Brook was dogpiling behind the mound, I knew what was coming. Having grown up watching the agony and ecstasy of many Tiger baseball teams in the postseason, I knew the Alex Box faithful would give the Seawolves the ovation they had rightfully earned. What followed made me sick. The ovation I expected turned into six separate ovations followed by a victory lap, all for a team that came to our homefield and – for lack of a better description – whipped our asses. Social media was also ablaze with support, from hashtags of #geauxseawolves to The Daily Reveille’s own picture of the victory lap, which garnered more than 1,400 likes on Facebook. The gushing affection for Stony Brook was unavoidable, and something I never would’ve envisioned. As I expected, these newfound Stony Brook die-hards were nowhere to be found after the Seawolves were manhandled in Omaha last weekend. But after what I saw that weekend from the 29,288 fans that packed the Box for the three super regional games, this outpouring of affection was artificial to say the least. For example. take game two on Saturday. The middle-aged man I saw above the first-base dugout yelling audible expletives at the Stony Brook players- while his young son looked up at him- showed the true attitude that many LSU fans held throughout the series. Or in Sunday’s clinching game, when the woman in a suite by the press box kept stomping her feet in disgust and hurling obscenities toward the Long Island visitors. Sure, these are only two singular examples, but don’t fret – the entire fanbase showed its fair share of immaturity. Whenever Seawolves coach Matt Senk or catcher Pat Cantwell would jog to the mound, choruses of unnecessary, ignorant boos rang out from the entire stadium for something as harmless as a mound visit. Finally, when the Seawolves threw up their patented three-finger hand signals after a clutch base hit, they were greeted with just as many middle-finger salutes from the crowd above the first-base dugout. The victory lap was merely a feeble attempt at rectifying such egregious, moronic behavior on display during each game. It may have fooled ESPN announcer Doug Glanville, but it didn’t impress me. Let me be clear, I am in no way against good sportsmanship. Polite applause for Travis Jankowski’s stellar centerfield play was warranted and a standing ovation was in order for all three Seawolf starting pitchers, which the crowd executed admirably. And I’m sure the tailgaters outside the ballpark made up for the actions inside, nourishing our northern guests with jambalaya, pralines and maybe even a PBR. But inside the too-friendly confines of the Box, the hardened shell of the mecca of college baseball was slowly softened with each scorching double and easy outfield catch that the Seawolves executed. Fans took away the home field advantage the Box is supposed to provide, turning into an 11,000-person bandwagon that disappeared just as quickly as it formed. These same fans sit in Tiger Stadium on Saturday nights, shouting the same boorish insults at visitors that they did toward the Seawolves. But when the home team comes up short in Death Valley, where’s the obsession with the conquering victors? At the end of the weekend, I could only think of what will happen on September 29. Unknown, unheralded Towson will come into Tiger Stadium to try and slay Goliath and shock the college football world, just like the Seawolves did to the college baseball world. If the Towson Tigers beat LSU, can we expect a victory lap? Will Student Government President Taylor Cox arrange a bus of LSU fans to travel to their remaining games and cheer them on? Come on, they’d be a Cinderella! “No, no, no,” says every Tiger fan. “We’re too good.” So was Paul Mainieri’s club, right?
 
____ Contact Chandler Rome at [email protected]