Listen, here’s the short of it: the state of Nevada is in a black hole called an “economic crisis.” We are a public school, so some things have to get cut. It’s a shame, we know. We cuddled with our teddy bears too when we heard that the ever so prestigious Pride of the Sierra may get cut. Wah wah. The reality is that you guys never made yourselves a priority. Therefore, the University doesn’t see you as a priority. Weird.

However, we at the NSS do NOT agree that you should get cut. The band is a huge part of the collegiate athletic experience. If they cut you guys, the quality of campus life will deteriorate. Not to mention, the quality of our Division I athletics will waiver as well. You can’t have a great team without a great band and great fans to support it.

It doesn’t seem like the administration is trying to help the band out, so the band took it upon themselves and tried several “save the band” campaigns. Weaksauce. You all look like you’re raising money for a girl scout troop who wants to go to Disneyland.

Get your shit together. We at the NSS have decided to help a brotha out, so here it is:

(Now don’t get all bent out of shape when you read this. It’s simply constructive criticism. We’re on your side! But, it did take director orders from President Glick to get the band to march the whole route of the 2007 Homecoming Parade. That’s from 9th Street to 15th Street, people. Don’t act like you’re the only victims here)

How the Nevada Marching Band Can Save Itself

1. Care a little more. I know how “busy” you are, but did you know that other universities perform more than just on game day? Shocking, we know. Man up and want to be a part of this tradition..not just when it’s convenient for you.

2. Show a little spirit. Enjoy yourselves for crying out loud. We’d cut you too if you keep acting like this is some sort of hassle. If you make it look like you are having fun two things will happen: 1. the rest of the stadium will have fun, they feed off you guys 2. people may actually want to join the band, instead of being forced to by a too-good-to-be-true scholarship.

The USC Marching Band always wears sunglasses while performing. That makes them stand out against any other marching band in the country, and guess what! It’s was a totally cheap and easy way to get noticed. Now, they are sponsored by Nike.

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3. Start some Traditions: The Leland Stanford Junior University Marching Band (let’s just cut to the chase and call it Stanford) share a pre-game breakfast together called “The Breakfast of Champions” consisting of beer and doughnuts. If you create something that others want to be a part of, maybe you won’t have to complain so much.

PS We really like the guy who wears the blue afro in the Pep Band. Way to go dude. Go Pack.

4. Prostitution.

5. But seriously, prostitution. Sell yourself. Sell appearances by The Pride of the Sierra. Offer to play at graduation parties, weddings, birthday parties, business openings, bachelor parties, sleep-overs, keggers, retirement parties… anything. Put together a 10 piece band and get movin! If you charge at least $200 for a 15 minute appearance in Reno (meaning you could drive yourselves) , you would see your budget increase, dramatically. Yes, it means more work, but if you really want to stay around, you’ll do it.

6. Make a God damn VISIBLE “N” formation on the field. We’re not asking you to spell in cursive like Ohio State does, but a simple N would really impress the crowd at this point.

And if all else fails,

7. Get on your knees and pray to John Mackay.

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We’ve all dreamed of being someone else right?  Someone famous and powerful.  No midterms or needless assignments, life would be great right. BUt before you go ahead and wish for it Well in the spirit of shooting down dreams in a very Jimmy Stewart-ish fashion, we ask you to consider some of the bad parts of being that famous person whose identity you so crave.  Naturally fort he first edition of this we pick everyone’s favorite childhood icon: Mario from Super Mario Brothers.

To us it seems like Mario of Super Mario Brothers fame has it made.  He only works once every 2-3 years, his gf is a princess, him and his brother have the sweetest porno staches this side of Wes Welker, he wears red denim overalls, and to top it all off, there are literally little boxes with prizes in them everywhere he goes.  Just stop and think for a second about how much sweeter your life would be if there were little prize boxes just littering your path.  Seems pretty sweet eh?  Bet you wish you could trade your life for Mario’s right now?  Well you my friend are mistaken, there is no way you’d really want Mario’s life if you thought about it.

            For starters his girlfriend gets kidnapped constantly.  Think about how horrible it would be to lose a loved one.  Got it?  Good.  Now imagine (there’s no heaven) that she was kidnapped by a huge scary dinosaur.  A huge scary dinosaur who has like 4 really big castles with scary music playing in all of them on a constant loop.  Now realize there’s no way in H you’re going to go to the right castle on the first try.  In fact I’d say you’ve got like a 90 percent chance of not getting there until the last time.  Also, to even get to these castles Mario constantly has to go down a pipe.  Go down a pipe? Are you kidding me?  What would you do if a giant man eating flower retracted its head into a pipe?   Not fucking go down it.  Imagine jumping down an elevator shaft that has a monster in it.  Okay, so what Mario does is a little scarier than that.  Really, I don’t care how many sweet little coins are in that god-forsaken cavern, I’m not going down there.  Besides, there will be more coins around, I’m sure of it.  So you get back out of the tube and you see that there are some boxes around, one has maybe a growth mushroom, another maybe a fire flower.  Real quick how good for you do you think it is to ingest a flower that makes fire come out of your body?  Or crazier yet, a mushroom that makes you immediately double in size. Hmmm… probably no lasting side effects there. I mean why would there be?  So after you’ve drugged yourself up you start running toward the castle again and you see there’s some pretty huge abyss’ (what’s the official plural on that?) that you’re expected to jump over.  Think about steeling yourself up for that one.  Then think about doing it like 80 something times.  By the way, you aren’t exactly pulling all these athletic moves off in a pair of basketball shorts and running shoes.  You’re wearing denim bib overalls.  Denim bib overalls that are skin tight, I mean those b’s are painted on to your slightly robust body (and not really in an ultra flattering manner).  Also let’s get one thing straight right now.  Denim, skin tight, maybe a little sweaty, what’s that a recipe for?  Well if you guessed the chafe of your life you are correct sir.  You think you’d feel like attempting death-defying leaps in these bad boys?  Don’t kid yourself; you wouldn’t even want to walk to the garage to get a knife to cut yourself out of this “fat man corset”.

            “Wow SpaceSuit, this sounds pretty bad,” says you, “well at least there’s always the sweet release of death to free Mario from all of his trials and tribulations right?”  Wrong lad.  You, and your brother, die constantly.  Whether it’s falling into a cold, unforgiving, abyss, burning alive in a lake of fire, or getting kneecapped by an errant turtle shell, you’re coming back.  And where are you coming back to?  The very site of your death.  Whatever the controlling power of your universe may be (and I assume its not God for he would never be this cruel) finds it necessary to drop you back in and make you try it again.  And it isn’t like you can just run away from all of this, you’re forbidden from moving backward (Nintendo doesn’t like pussies).

            Under all these stresses you would for sure have a nervous breakdown, the pressure would get to you.  You think it didn’t get to Mario?  Let’s look at the indicators shall we?  He can’t control his weight, he allows himself and his family to constantly fall back into the same cycle of capture and rescue, and he hasn’t changed his clothes since 1986.  The guy is a walking time bomb.  Every couple of years him and his drinking buddies (his brother, an ape with a tie, and a guy who apparently has a mushroom for a head) go blow off steam by riding around one of their houses until someone gets road rage and starts firing off missiles.

            So, next time you think maybe you might want to be Mario, think again Copernicus.  And before you even ask, no you don’t want to be Link, don’t even go down that road; just break the wrist and walk away.