Sun. Oct. 25, 2009
5:42 a.m.
It’s pitch black and I’m riding on a yellow school bus with about 15 other Quidditch fans from McGill on our way to Middlebury. I caught a cab at 4:45 a.m. and was the first to arrive at the designated pick-up spot at the Milton Gates, a central spot on McGill’s campus. The cab driver seemed to think I was crazy asking to be let off in front of a sketchy abandoned construction site at such an obscene hour. It didn’t help the matter when I told him I was going to see the Quidditch Cup.
There are a couple people on the bus who will be playing today. The rest of the team went down earlier this weekend. Most other people on board have, at one point, tried out or played for the McGill team. All seem amused that I have trekked from Ottawa to get a ride to the tournament and I have told the story of my journey a few times in the past hour. I have been told I should receive a devotion award for my perseverance in getting here.
“This one guy from Kansas was complaining [on Facebook] that he couldn’t get there because he was too far away,” Eric Notarangelo, one of the McGill chasers, told me. “You proved him wrong.”