One might expect to see Quidditch at places like Harvard, where the students outscored me on the SAT when they were 8th graders, can trace their lineage to the Mayflower, and are afflicted with nine different varieties of social anxiety disorder. A Comic-Con attendee dressed like Boba Fett who made his own functional net launcher laughs at their awkwardness, but goddamn if they won't be running our country one day.
Behold the game of Quidditch! Fear Sara's dynamic athleticism! Look at these pale, earnest girls who will not fly in front of the Muggles and reveal their wizard nature.
None of these people are having any sex at all.
Now Quidditch has made it's way to Texas A&M, a place I generally associate with being overly peopled by the Ben Affleck character in Dazed And Confused, that dude in high school who tried just a little too hard, always elicited eye rolls when he told of various hunting exploits that no one else could verify ("And as the javelina charged my Daddy, I braced my boar spear knowing that only I could save him...") and derived far too much enjoyment from picking on the freshmen.
Aggie awkwardness was specific and defined with certain boundaries of redassery, groupthink, reactionary narrow mindedness, public ball-clutching, and collie-worship.
But true nerdistry know no walls. And now the same dudes and ladies that foam sword fight at Pease Park have found their way to College Station.
The end of the clip is particularly satisfying as the Aggies attempt to sell the viewer on the physical gangsta nature of a game played with a phallic symbol clutched between your inner thighs, derived from a children's classic.
Aggie Quidditch: From the outside looking in, you can't understand it. From the inside looking out, you can't explain it.