Last Thursday, one of my roommates traipsed into my apartment with a giant grin on her face. The other came home wearing an outrageous pair of cardinal-and-gold-striped coveralls. Why? Because football season had finally begun again, and their excitement for the games and our 27-10 win against Northern Illinois knew no bounds.

Such fans, annoying as I have found them and their exuberance to be, and even though I’ve been harassed for not showing support for what will someday be my alma mater, are one of Iowa State’s greatest assets and most valuable gems.

They feature in every athletic event. They’re in line with their tickets before the sun rises. When the gates open and they can flood the ticket-takers, they stand in the front row of the student section, painted in our colors and with a supportive slogan, waving their posters and cheering wildly. They are the students whose school pride is endless.

When I was younger, I used to find such fans endlessly annoying. And while they may still be annoying and sometimes outrageously obnoxious, I think I enjoy the idea of their ardent support much more now than I have previously. Why? Because around the lethargy of going to class, reading for class and doing homework for class, these student fans get you fired up and ready to go. They cheer you on and give you energy, even if you too are a spectator in the stands.

Superfans make it clear that there is something out there bigger than all of us — something we can share and something we can be proud of. That institution is Iowa State University of Science and Technology, and we are its students, alumni, staff and faculty. Our presence here and participation in such ritualized collegiate events such as football games, Veishea parades and, when we’re freshmen, Destination Iowa State creates a tie that binds.

And it is this kind of tie — one of pride — that I would rather have than the connection to people that drunken parties create. Compared to such destructive activity, I would rather hang out with the superfans at athletic events any day. Partying is fun, I’ll grant you, and there are all kinds of people to meet. But far too often they end in damage to yourself — to your mind, psyche and body — and to the people with whom you interact.

Would you rather wake up in the morning struggling to sit up, contending with a hangover and trying desperately to figure out, between the kegstand and one-night stand, what the hell happened last night?

Or would you rather wake up in the morning and remember celebrating the previous night after feeling an overwhelming surge of connectedness with your fellow students and supporters at your university?

Football and other athletic games shouldn’t be seen as an excuse to throw a party and get smashed over margaritas, cheap beer and mixed drinks fashioned from whatever lies in your fridge. They are, quite simply, a way to become involved with your community. And even if you’re just one face in a crowd, your contribution — your own unique way of cheering your team to an exciting, captivating win — adds to the din of noise the players hear and draw inspiration from on the field.