Gator fans have the chomp and Auburn supporters yell “War Eagle!” But in Starkville, Miss., home of Mississippi State, they have cowbells — tons of them — and, like Christopher Walken in the popular SNL skit, they need more.”You’ve got a handle, a piece of metal with a ball in it and you ring it when something good happens,” said Justin Ammon, sports editor of the Reflector, Mississippi State’s student newspaper.During its 70-plus year history at Mississippi State, the cowbell has enjoyed an iconic status as a noisemaker, tradition, controversy and overall thorn in the side to all who oppose it.”It’s our main tradition, for better or for worse,” Ammon said. “It’s kind of a rebellious way to scoff at the backwoods stereotype, like, ‘Yeah, we have cowbells. What’s it to you?'”Ammon’s attitude is one many Southerners can understand, even those that have to deal with the dreaded clanging this weekend.”When you think of the South, you think of the country,” said LSU senior offensive tackle Ciron Black. “What better way to show your Southern pride than to have cowbells?”Saturday is Black’s third career trip to Starkville — he traveled there his first season at LSU when he was redshirted — and he said the fans aren’t having any trouble allaying their cowbell fever.”That’s every year ever since I’ve been a freshman,” Black said. “It gets pretty loud actually — you don’t realize it. It’s good though. They’re going to be amped up and juiced up.”Legend has it that Bulldog fans embraced the power of the cowbell in the early days of Southeastern Conference football. The most common story is that a cow — complete with cowbell — found its way onto the field during a game against hated rival Ole Miss.”The cow got onto the field and started running around, and the bell rang the whole time,” said Katie Landry, a professional meteorology sophomore at Mississippi State. “When the game started back up, we played so much better and beat Ole Miss.”The clamoring of cowbells has followed the Bulldogs everywhere since.The bells come in more varieties than even Edgar Allan Poe could imagine. Colors range from maroon to white to pink and feature logos, ribbons and stickers.”It’s just like what people do with their laptops,” Ammon said. “You’ll see a 3-year-old with a little one or a big burly guy with a huge one.”Landry and many other Greek students at MSU, sport their Greek letters on their cowbells.Landry said the cowbells make the in-stadium experience “much more intense,” for Davis Wade Stadium’s capacity of 55,082, which is considerably smaller than several of the SEC’s colossal venues.Not that many haven’t tried to silence the racket.The SEC enacted a ban against artificial noise makers in 1975, hindering fans’ abilities to bring their cowbells into the stadium. The conference went so far as to take on-field action against artificial noise, allowing referees to penalize a team either five or 15 yards for fans’ use of noise makers.A ray of hope for the cowbell’s legality shined in 2006 when the NCAA eliminated its rule against artificial noise, but the SEC was subsequently granted exemption to enforce its own rules.”The SEC hates MSU’s cowbells so much they wanted to pursue their own rule,” Ammon said. “They kind of stuck it to us on that one.”The restrictions prohibit the presence of cowbells at Davis Wade during SEC games, but that hardly helps to stop the ringing.Ammon said stadium security is “don’t ask, don’t tell” if cowbells aren’t in plain view, while Landry said students have their own methods.”Guards will search your purse, and if they see or hear one they confiscate it,” Landry said. “So girls stuff their cowbells with napkins or tissues and hide it on the bottom of their purse, and guys put it in their back pocket.”Those suffering from cowbell fever should fill their prescription Saturday night.”We love our cowbells,” Ammon said. “We ring them any chance we get.”—-Contact David Helman at [email protected]