Nose Pick on Jumbotron

My college roommate who died, Tom, the winter before he accidentally killed himself, gave me two tickets to the Marquette Eagles basketball game at the Bradley Center. Tom’s dad was an alumni of Marquette University and had season tickets. Tom would have rather got drunk in his room by himself than go to the game so he offered the tickets to me. Normally I would have turned the tickets down because I am not a Marquette fan, in fact I strongly dislike them. But these seats were in the 3rd row right behind the visitors bench. Tickets this good I could not pass on. My friend, Bob, went to the game with me. This was one of the worst basketball games I had seen in a while, the half time score was something like 23-18. It was a horrible game to watch, a foul every 30 seconds and a lot of missed shots, just the caliber of game that I expected to see out of Marquette. During half time as the teams were warming up for the second half they were showing people in the crowd up on the Jumbotron as they normally do at games. I leaned over to Bob and said that if they show us on the Jumbotron let’s pick our noses. Less than a minute later, the old guy sitting on the other side of me, nudged me and said “Hey you are up on the Jumbotron.” Now at this time, I need to inform you that there are certain rules that go along with being on the Jumbotron. Rule Number 1: If you look at the screen and acknowledge that you are on the screen they will quickly go to someone else. Knowing this, I turned to Bob and said, “Are we really up there?” Bob was laughing and said, “Yes.” I said, “Watch this.” I could see out of the corner of my eye that we were on the screen and I could tell that the camera was in front of me and across the court from me. I looked right, looked left and then stuck my finger up my nose. I am sure you have all experienced at a sporting event, that there is normally a hubbub of noise when there is a lull in the action and there was this lull at this moment. As I picked my nose, the place mildly erupted into a collective laughter. At this point I knew that I had the arena in the palm of my hand, and I also knew that the camera man wasn’t going to take the camera off of me until I did something else. So I did, I stuck my finger in my mouth. This resulted in the crowd expressing their disgust with collective “Eeeewwwwuuuu.” I looked up a noticed that the camera man had quickly panned down to the people in front of me. Bob was in a fit of uncontrollable laughter and the old guy next to me swore that I was drunk. The rest of the game was highly anticlimactic, but Bob and I laughed through the remainder of the game. That was at the start of my 15 minutes of fame.