Thunder sticks steal thunder from real cheering

Jeff Raasch

If you’ve witnessed a Major League Baseball playoff or World Series game this season, you’ve most likely seen the newest fad in sports. The plastic tube-shaped noisemakers collectively referred to as “thunder sticks” have become all the rage, especially with baseball fans.

When two of these things are banged together, it sounds similar to a beach ball getting struck. It’s been said that they make a thundering sound when 40,000 people or so take part, helping to distract the opposing team.

At only about 50 cents per pair, they appeal to the cost-effective fan. Businesses like them, because it’s one more way to advertise their name.

And fans save their voices for the next day, and hands are spared from stinging — like traditional yelling and clapping does.

So what’s my beef with thunder sticks?

They’re incredibly annoying and serve no place in a sport once designated as America’s pastime — or any other sport for that matter. The sticks are just about as bad as those foam fingers that used to be so cool.

What’s next?

Anaheim, home of the American League Champion Angels, has taken the thunder-stick infatuation to a new level.

The sticks are everywhere, and it seems as if every fan has at least a couple pairs. What better place for this fad to take off than right next to an amusement park?

That’s where they would fit in, instead of MLB stadiums.

This irks me now, but what would really get under my skin would be a thunder-stick promotion at any of the more historical ball parks in 2003. I’m not aware of it happening yet, so I hope I never see the air tubes at Yankee Stadium or Wrigley Field.

Baseball is built around its history, and thunder sticks just aren’t a part of it, and should never become part of it. They are cheap toys that have nothing to do with the sport or the players.

They’ve carnivalized the game and could someday turn a sporting event into a state-fair type occasion.

It seems like some pimple-faced teenager named Jimmy should be handing them out on the corner next to the Ferris wheel.

They have already been banned by the NCAA at indoor events and the Pacific-10 Conference has also banned them from football games, effective next season because they are believed to promote “negative behavior.”

I can see why.

Here’s an idea: Let’s give these things to a bunch of inebriated college students and take bets on how long it takes for one of them to go “thunder stick” on another one’s head.

Yeah, right.

Although that would be better entertainment than some things on TV, it’s just not cool.

You may think this is something restricted to all those Angels fans who just can’t seem to get enough red, but they’re even here at Iowa State.

Earlier this month, when the ISU soccer team took on Nebraska, the noisemakers were distributed to the first 250 fans.

Last weekend’s football game in Oklahoma was also made even uglier with the presence of the sticks.

My thought is: Whatever happened to clapping your hands and yelling your heart out?

I sure don’t need some plastic, promotional tube of air to help me out.

I think it’s a case of the lazy-fan syndrome. People would rather bang two tubes together than cheer like a normal person.

I’ll never buy into this. There’s a certain satisfaction that comes with waking up the next day with a sore throat after putting it all out there for your team.

Call me crazy, but I’d take laryngitis over the disgrace of being seen with thunder sticks.

Plus, how are you expected to hold that $5 hot dog and your beverage when you’ve got those batons in your hands?

It’s impossible.

Although I’m not a big fan of the Twins, I applaud their marketing director for sticking with the “homer hankies.” The look is cool, they don’t make an annoying sound and it’s a great souvenir after the game.

So the next time you have the chance to partake in a sporting event and you have the opportunity to buy a thunder stick, just say no to them — especially if I’m sitting nearby.

Jeff Raasch

is a junior in journalism and mass communication from Odebolt.