Samwise Donkenstein’s Preseason Top 5 Feelings About This Year

The 6th Feeling is Swag

It is my own misfortune, and indeed the misfortune of many reading this article, to have (mostly) unwittingly chosen a life of suffering and self-torture. I can’t ask for sympathy, I did this to myself, and I can’t ask most humans to understand my situation; how could you, being either outside the realm of fandom or lucky enough to root for a team by some other name?

I am an invested, devoted, fervent fan of the Northwestern Wildcats, and only a select few people to have ever walked this Earth truly know what that is like.

10 Reasons Why You Should Apply to be a Writer for Sherman Ave

Everything the sun touches will be yours

10. You want to get involved on campus.
Sherman Ave is a great way to get involved, because… well…
…okay, there’s a reason this is number ten. But it sure is a hell of a lot better way to get involved here at Northwestern than joining a group of peppy undergrads who sing a capella covers of Yellowcard.

9. You aren’t currently a writer on Sherman Ave.
Realistically, you aren’t content with that. Join us, and we will imbue your life with meaning and satisfaction.

Ross Packingham as a child

8. The lifestyle.
Drugs, sex, and rock and roll. Except it would be more aptly described as alcohol, alcohol, and Bruce Springsteen. C’mon, all the cool kids are doing it. So is some twat named Evander Jones.

7. You love Morty.
We love Morty. Is that not enough? Just think about the man’s silky, silvery beard and how much you’d love to write articles about it.

6. Pseudonyms.
Everyone secretly yearns for a secret identity. As a writer on Sherman Ave, you’ll get the chance to not only have a secret identity, but to have a secret identity that offends at least 85% of the global population.

Warning: All new Sherman Ave writers must first pledge their undying love and allegiance to Pippa before they can start writing

5. You’re unnecessarily attracted to Pippa Middleton.
Join the club, champ.

4. It’s free.
We live in a world where nearly everything costs money – barring, of course, happiness. And while money can’t buy happiness, being a writer on Sherman Ave can bring you relative happiness from the heinousness and despair you thrust upon others. And if that’s not enough to warm the cockles of your frigid heart, just think of all the slampieces you’ll bag as a writer for this blog (unless, of course, you first have to explain to her that you are the true identity of somebody named “Sir Edward Twattingworth III”).

3. You went to Lyons Township High School.
We don’t know what it is about that place, but they manage to crank out more atrocious individuals than Octo-Mom would if she were boinking Fred Phelps.

2. You came to our informational meeting.
It was at Burger King at 1 o’clock on a Saturday afternoon. You wore a three-piece suit with a keyboard tie. We were visibly intoxicated. Don’t even try telling us you were just there for the food.

A graphical representation of the Sherman Ave community

1. The people.
Sherman Ave is an excellent group of people, who will do everything from drunkenly showing up to a house party dressed as John F. Kennedy and Marilyn Monroe to beaning you in the cranium with freshly-picked apples. The people who aren’t us want to be us. And the people who don’t want to be us are probably from one of the following countries: Latvia, New Zealand, Iceland, Uruguay, Brazil, Kyrgyzstan, São Tomé and Príncipe, France, or Costa Rica.

Maroon 5: The Ultimate Orgasm Enabler

This band is determined to sex you up at least seven different way from Sunday

Thursday, June 30th seemed like such a normal day. I woke up with a digestive system full of well-fermented anguish, after hours of dreaming about talking yaks. I proceeded to head to my workplace – the inspiration for Dante’s Divine Comedy – and by the time the late afternoon rolled around, I had nothing to anticipate for the evening other than a ham and turkey sandwich and several hours of internet stalking. It was then, at this point of despair, that I received a call from a friend – a call that would change my life. It consisted of two questions:

Friend: “Are you busy tonight?”

Me: “Well, not unless getting my time for Sporcle’s “Capitals of the World” quiz below 4 minutes somehow qualifies as busy. Why?”

Friend: Do you want to come to the Maroon 5 concert with me?

Me: [3 to 5 minutes of unfiltered expletives]

So there it was. My average evening of memorizing the hometowns of everyone in the Northwestern University Class of 2015 Facebook group had suddenly turned into what I knew would be a night more than worthy of a Sherman Ave review.

In a word, Maroon 5 was: SO FUCKING AMAZING I CAN’T EVEN COMPREHEND IT THEY WERE EXCELLENT LIVE PERFORMERS TOO BUT THEIR MUSIC IS JUST SO FUCKING GOOD I LOVE THEIR STYLE SO MUCH BECAUSE THEY VERY EFFECTIVELY PUT JAZZ INTO POP MUSIC AND ADAM LEVINE’S VOICE IS LIKE A STICK OF BUTTER WRAPPED IN BACON HANDED TO YOU ON A WARM GOLDEN PLATE BY PIPPA FUCKING MIDDLETON.

Average fan 6 seconds into "Harder to Breathe"

Okay, so I exceeded the word limit. But given the number of times I’ve failed to meet it (e.g. college essays), I can make an exception. There is really no way to put “one word” to such an amazing performance – the closest one could come would be a wombination, like “orjazzmic.” Did I discover some noticeably non-platonic feelings for Adam Levine? Probably. But more importantly, I finally learned what the ‘5’ in Maroon 5 signifies: the number of dozens of orgasms that any given audience member will have at one of their concerts.