Last week, a small but effective uprising among the lower ranks of the hacky sack club opened a seam within the organization. The rebellion was led by club vice president, Broseph “Bro the Toe” McDaniel.
Dissent had been spreading through the ranks of the club for the past few months over a ban on the more modern suede footbags by club President Sammy “Swaggins” Waggins.
Waggins, a crochet sack purist, stated in an interview, “I’m just trying to keep the club connected to its roots.”
On Tuesday night, McDaniel led a small group of dissidents into Waggins’ room while she was away. The group systematically drained all of Waggins’ 49 hacky sacks. McDaniel then elected himself the new president of the club.
The next day this coup d’hack caused the club to schism into a two-party system, which is exactly what club founder George Hackington warned against. McDaniel now led the Neo-Footbaggers Collective (NFC), and Waggins lead the Republic of Classical Hacky-Sackers (RCHS). Both parties claimed to be the true descendants of the TU hacky sack club.
Tensions reached a climax around lunch time as both parties vied for the original TU hacky sack club’s old spot. The two forces stood parallel to one another preparing for battle. The stand-off quickly turned into a hack-off.
Spectators described the event as “a hail of hacky sacks” and “really annoying because they were right in front of ACAC.” The circles were locked in stalemate for a good ten minutes but finally the RCHS pulled ahead with a triple hack ending with a cross-legged side settle by Waggins.
The NFC valiantly attempted to come back and almost succeeded with a double hack. However, McDaniel attempted a risky back-settle into side pass that cost the collective the match, and the hack spot.
Not only has this war dismantled one of TU’s oldest and most respected clubs, but it has left so many without a place to hack. “Bro and Swaggins are both great guys,” said former TU hacky sack club member Tom “Huntman” Hunter, “but I can’t play with one without alienating the other. I just feel … homeless.”
“The time following a rift in leadership is always chaotic for a campus club,” said political science professor Dr. Richard Blanks. “Many former members will feel a sense of anomie for up to a week after their club dissolves, at which point they will likely discover another passion, like improv or slacklining.”