The Hundred Days Games
Published: Friday, February 14, 2014
Updated: Monday, February 17, 2014 15:02
“…And so it was decreed, that each year, the various residence halls and off-campus houses of Mount St. James would offer up in tribute, senior men and women to fight for their dignity in a pageant of friendship, unity, but mostly: inebriation.”
The DCU center is the arena. All seniors in attendance are tributes, who all coincidentally volunteered by purchasing a completely overpriced ticket (this is a very loose metaphor, bear with me). All of us volunteered because of the chance to leave as a victor. Victory can mean leaving with fond (or any) memories, having a fun night with friends, or to be perfectly honest, making some sort of connection with that person you’ve been pining for since freshman year.
In Panem, a Career is someone who has trained their whole life to compete in the Games. They see this as a golden opportunity rather than a test to be endured. An HC Career is someone in possession of a mental or physical list. They enter the arena with one goal: to come out victorious: names crossed off a piece of crumpled loose-leaf paper. I am equal parts terrified and intrigued to see the fanatical HC Careers. Most of us are not Careers, but just regular tributes trying to survive (i.e leave with our dignity).
There will be Katniss Everdeens in attendance. These are underdogs who come out victorious. These blessed, lucky individuals don’t flaunt their talent at navigating social settings with music, dancing, and members of the opposite sex. No one expects them to thrive, but they do! These people are rare, but I know they exist, and I’m totally rooting for them! Their success stories are the reason the rest of us poor slobs bought tickets.
I, like many others, am Peeta Mellark in this very poorly constructed metaphor. Peeta and I both have strong feelings for bread but the most important similarity we share is that we could NEVER win the Hunger Games without our allies. Let’s say that Peeta’s lack of survival skills, common sense, and overall uselessness is symbolic of social awkwardness. My allies are my friends who love me and stick with me despite my inability to handle social situations with grace. I know that no matter what happens, if I am not on anyone’s list, or (the more likely situation) I am on everyone’s list and can’t handle all the attention and praise, I am going to be fine because I will be rolling in with my fabulous and loyal crew. So, to my fellow seniors I say this: let’s enjoy this last night together, let’s sing Timber and let’s celebrate how far we’ve come as a class. May the odds be ever in your favor.