The sun was high as the Varsity Whitman Privilege-Checking Team made their way out onto the field (the maintenance costs of which alone could have fed a Somalian family for months as privilege checking Defenseman Ray Johnson later informed me). The team looked quite dapper in their uniforms made from composted tube socks and organic hemp (which legend says was grown by Nelson Mandela and the Dalai Lama for their personal stash). The referee gave an apathetic grunt and the game was on.

Now, let me tell you ladies and gentlemen. Those of you who have never witnessed 12 rich white kids yelling at each other in an open field should really re-evaluate your bucket lists. There were tears shed, blood spit and most importantly, privileges savagely checked. The brutality came as no surprise to this seasoned reporter as Whitman and Whitworth have long had a bitter privilege-checking rivalry(reportedly stemming from an incident wherein a drunken Whitworth player defecated upon a tapestry with George Bridges’ likeness on it). It was a close match but victory was finally ours thanks to power forward and first-year recruit out of Bellevue High Gunther Peterson V.

The seminal moment was in the final quarter with mere seconds to spare. Gunther took stock of his surroundings and, seeing a Whitworth player wearing a shirt with “stand against racism” printed on it, made a bold play which would ultimately win Whitman the finals.

With a gleam in his eye not unlike that of a ravenous wombat stalking its prey, Gunther triumphantly bellowed, “Stand against racism?!?! Do you even realize that there are people here who can’t stand?” Gunther shifted his gaze to the audience and pointed at an elderly woman in a wheelchair. “Are you saying she’s a racist?”

I knew the match was over before the baffled apologies and sobs could be heard from the opposing team.

Later that evening I met up with our team at the privilege-checking house (which has recently been moved to a more modest cardboard box under I-12). Gunther was there and in quite a state, but I could hardly blame him. That eco-friendly alpaca wine has a way of putting a fellow on his ass. After watching Gunther writhe amongst the broken glass, used hypodermic needles and adoring fans for a few moments, I decided to conduct my interview with the slightly more lucid privilege-checking Captain Todd Phillips. Now Todd, as I soon found out, is a man of few, but poignant and often alpaca-wine-drenched words. I inquired about the source of the team’s success and was met with a response I won’t soon forget: “Well, we really all just blaaaaaaaach.”

As Todd redistributed the wealth in his stomach all over two unsuspecting homeless men, I reflected upon what I had seen that day. Love it or hate it, Privilege checking is fast becoming a cultural fixture at Whitman College, and as Todd so eloquently put it, “At least it’s better than debate.”