I Think We Should Still Have Playfair

Okay, yeah, whatever, school has to be online because of “safety”, but I dare the administration to answer me this: how the fuck are we going to do Playfair??

Playfair is essential business, it is the most important event of your CUPantherExperience, everyone meets their best friend. It’s a party that doesn’t have any alcohol where you talk to people you barely know and have marginal things in common with for about 60 seconds each — that’s what Chapman is all about, baby!

A lack of Playfair would be destructive to the educational journey of the class of 2024. Without Playfair, how are freshmen going to meet the 47 other people that were born in the same month as them?  If we cancel playfair, THEN HOW THE FUCK ARE THEY GOING TO KNOW WHO IS BEST AT ROCK PAPER SCISSORS. The social hierarchy of the next four years is set every year at Playfair, how is the class of 2024 going to crown the coolest player on campus?

More thought needs to be put into these decisions. The administration and the state government need to get their heads out of their butts and think about how their decisions are going to affect others. Does Gavin Newsom know what the butterfly effect is? Does Gavin Newsom even know what Playfair is?

For the health, safety, general wellbeing, future, economy, prosperity, and knowledge of the class of 2024, playfair MUST occur. It’s outdoors, so it’s fine, right?

Dirty Rushing is Empowering: Why Saying Fuck U to Panhellenic is Actually Feminism

Every year, the executive council of my sorority reminds us of the consequences of “dirty rushing.” In discussing our sorority with any potential new member, we could get infracted (aka Panhellenic makes us pay a shit ton of money for just like…vibing). This year I won’t take it. I refuse to stop wearing my letters. I will not pretend that I’m not in a top tier srat at social events. I WILL NOT make my instagram private. This is an open call for PNM’s to talk to me about my sorority(but only if we go to the same frats). 

Madame president or whatever in my srat seems to think we should let PNM’s go through the “rush process,” but that’s long and dumb and honestly feels sexist. Why should a PNM have to get dressed up and talk to like 200 girls when I could literally just check her vibes??  I’m a woman supporting women and to me that means if I think a girl is cool, she shouldn’t have to walk around for 4 days, making small talk, pretending to like Blue Bowl, and listening to my sisters and I sing parodies of slightly out of date pop songs. I will not take it anymore. So, If you see me around campus, ask about my sorority’s secret rituals. I’ll tell you, and probably get put on probation? Or maybe I fully get kicked out? I don’t know but they just tell you not to do it. Who cares. Rush DG, baby. 

Ask Kumquat: Am I Too Hot or Not Hot Enough

Dear Kumquat, 

Lately I’ve noticed that everyone in my friend group has been getting closer while I still feel a bit left out. Last night, Emily and Josh hooked up in the third floor lounge, Madison and Matt made out at a wrap party, and Eli and John got handsy at the pregame. I just feel left out at this point, like I know that I am a strong independent woman, but also I still want to have a relationship with one of my friends where we flirt publically and make everyone uncomfortable. Is this too much to ask for? What about me screams “don’t have sex with me”. With Undie Run coming up, I just want to make sure that I have options on what person I want to have a very awkward second semester with.

Sincerely, 

Am I Too Hot or Not Hot Enough

Dear Am I Too Hot or Not Hot Enough, 

I’ve never seen you but I firmly believe you are hot enough. There comes a time in every friendship where one of the two parties says, “Wait, should we fuck?” , and the other says either “I guess” or does not reply to your texts for a solid two weeks. So your next step is to take that leap of faith! One sure fire way to convey these feelings to your friends is by using “I” statements. For example: “I feel like my tits look really good in in this shirt today and you should all at least take a glance.”, or “I feel like you should all know I got tested last week and I am good to go.”. You could even play it cool by retweeting a bunch of content from those weird soft core porn twitter accounts to let everyone know that you’re down. Or if you’re feeling bold, just flash them and see what happens. Remember: It’s not a felony if you really care. Just know, we’ve all been you and we’re all rooting for you. And if you haven’t been this person, ok we get it you’re cool and hot and probably have a great personality or something I don’t fucking care. 

Best, 

The Kumquat 

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Pete the Panther: Getting to know the Panther inside

Pete the Panther is early for our meeting. I walk up to the Starbucks patio outside Beckman hall to find Pete sitting on top of one of the black plastic chairs.

“I can’t fit in these chairs,” remarks Pete, “my ass is far too big.”

He waves off my suggestion that we move and makes small talk about his day: little stretching, some squats. Pete is trying to stay engaged, yet you can tell something is pulling his attention.

After he looks over his shoulder for the 26th time, I ask him what’s wrong. Pete softens, and apologizes. He admits he’s a little distracted. It’s not the hundreds of fans, stopping to take a snapchat of him from afar, it’s more personal than that.

His brother, Brendan, is the lit up panther hanging off Beckman.

“I’m sorry, could we move, actually?” says Pete, “I can’t focus with him here.”

I suggest we hit up Contra, Brot, Bodhi Leaf, Aussie Bean or some other boutique little coffee shop, maybe Pandor? But, Pete gets quiet.

“I’m not allowed to leave campus.”

He then pulls down his shirt to reveal a shock collar, hidden beneath his V neck.

We end up at the patio on the third floor of Argyros Forum, the nice one with the umbrellas that is always locked. Pete has a key.

Pete takes a deep breath and stares out at Wilson field.

“I always thought that this campus would be my paradise. It ended up being my prison.”

The Kumquat was incredibly lucky to get in touch with Pete, he’s a notably elusive interview. We emailed Jerry Price, Struppa, the dean of each college, the athletic director, even the provost — nothing. We DMed @chapmanufamily on Instagram and got left on “seen”. We contacted our rival publication, “The Panther”, since they have profiled Pete in the past, but they just directed us to a loud theatre performance major. “No!” we said, “We want to talk to the PETE.”

Finally, a sophomore cheerleader told us what apartment in Harris Pete lives in, so we left a handwritten note and a plate of cookies at his door. The cheerleader wished to remain anonymous but told us to tell Pete to text her back.

I ask Pete about his romantic life, he shrugs off the question, “A lot of people want this [Pete’s ass], but I’m not looking for something serious right now.” He looks down, pauses, then reveals, “Ever since Holly, things haven’t been the same.”

I almost follow up and ask about Holly, but what’s the point — we all heard rumors about their dramatic breakup after Airbands 2018, but it was surreal to finally hear they may be true. Pete is visibly shook at the mere mention of her, and what’s the need in upsetting him further?

Pete wipes the tears that were forming in his eyes, looks past me, and smiles. There are more fans. He gets up and opens the door for them. He pulls out some of his classic moves: a smile, a few dance moves, even his panther growl. He’s a pro.

The fans leave, and I point out that he usually saves the “panther growl” for special occasions. He looks me in the eyes:

“Everyone is special to me,” he says.

It’s surprising how genuine Pete seems to be, he’s been so famous for so long. Born in 1925, he’s been in the spotlight since he was a cub. He’s played the whole “smile, dance, growl” game for 9 decades, and he plays it flawlessly.

“You’ve got to give the people what they want,” Pete says. His enthusiastic tone contrasts the bags under his eyes.

“Sometimes… I just wish…nevermind,” he taps his paw on the table.

I switch topics and ask him about the new “Paws Up” slogan that admissions and reslife are so desperately trying to push. He lights up.

“I love it, are you kidding?” Pete says “We finally have like… an official slogan. People used to just say ‘Go Pants.’ I fucking hated that. I don’t even wear pants!”

For Chapman students, Pete’s just that panther. But deep down, he’s so much more. An artist, an athlete, a father, a performer, a lover. No one seems to know the “real” him. And yet he’s okay with that. He knows what he signed up for, and he’s good at just being that panther.

“Pete is in a class of his own,” says athletic director Dave Cooper. “He’s won ‘Panther of the Year’ for 94 consecutive years. Those are numbers you just can’t match”

It all comes down to his work ethic. Pete is non-stop. Every football and basketball game. Dressing up as Santa Claus for Winterfest. Wearing his signature red and black bikini for Spring Sizzle — you have to wonder if it’s too much for one panther to handle.

“It’s a lot,” says Pete, with a resigned sigh “But it’s the job”

He never thinks about retiring, or changing careers. What opportunities even exist for a panther in our modern political climate? And Pete, as I’ve come to realize, is just addicted to the spotlight, even though it tears him apart. Within Pete exists some sort of void that only cheers and photoshoots with Dean Jerry Price can fill. He gets up and says he has to go, despite the fact that the basketball game isn’t for 5 hours and that he doesn’t even need to be there until halftime. He mentions that he’s got a lot of stretching to do, then points to his legs.

“This,” he raises his arms and slowly does a 360 spin, “takes work,” Pete says, with a self-aware smirk.

I thank him for his time, and for his candor. He smiles, but there are tears in his eyes.

“This is all off the record, right?” he says, suddenly serious, before breaking out into a gargantuan belly laugh.

“I’m just kidding. Paws Up, baby”

Pete then leaps off balcony and effortless lands on The Keck Center. He prances along the side of the building, into the sunset.