The Ballad Of Peanut Butter Kid: A Firsthand Account
Some fans cover themselves in body paint. Others just spill food on themselves over the course of the game. Then there's UGA's Peanut Butter Kid, who made yesterday's upset over Tennessee just about as unpleasant as possible for everyone involved.
Deadspin reader Erik was "lucky" enough to sit near this smelly, gloppy mess of a human being in Athens. He favors us with his story.
Yesterday, as I took my seat a few hours prior to the UGA/TENN basketball game I noticed court-side the row of UGA fans that never miss a game. At first glance it appeared one of the group was applying body paint, okay, standard procedure for a sold out home game vs. a top 10 opponent. Then it became clear he was lathering himself in peanut butter (creamy I believe). The guy covered himself in the stuff from head to waist. It was impressive and slightly disturbing.
As the game progressed the people became more and more confused as to why this kid was covered in Peanut Butter. The confusion shifted to Bruce Pearl's ribbed t-shirt / sport coat combo for a bit, but came right back to Peanut Butter Kid as we noticed him several times in the first half getting a finger full off his chest and having a snack. This small snack thing would continue for the entire game. This guy sweating would also continue and the peanut butter began to run. He was hard not to get queasy every time I looked at this kid, making matters worse, there was no avoiding him because he was seated under the basket.
Why this kid would cover himself in PB became crystal clear as the seconds on the clocked ticked down and UGA was about to wrap up its first win vs. a top 10 team at home since the Jim Harrick era. The students were reminded to NOT rush the court, when the game ended all but about 4 obliged. Peanut Butter Kid knew the rules didn't apply to him. As he rushed the court there wasn't a security guard or police officer willing to go anywhere near this kid. Usually its an early Christmas for these cops/guards when given the chance to lay out a smart-ass undergrad, but not today.
Peanut Butter kid was asked to return to his seat, which he did and then promptly went gallivanting across the court lathered in peanut butter and joy. This charade continued four or five more times, with each floor rushing yielding the same result which was the security guard realizing the $10-per-hour he is making ain't worth touching this kid who was by game's end a slippery concoction of sweat, school pride, and Skippy.
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