After 5:00 a.m. rituals help the Gee-Gees reclaim Pedro from Carleton, one U of O student trades a year of existential grief for ectoplasmic cold spots, spectral roars, and ruined hydrangeas.
Following the Gee-Gees’ victory over Carleton to reclaim Pedro the Panda, the collective trauma that plagued U of O students for the past 365 days vanished and was replaced by a wave of apocalyptic after-parties that local authorities and landlords are currently evaluating with hazmat suits.
The road to redemption began well before kickoff. Driven by the existential dread of last year’s tragic loss, U of O launched into their pre-game routines at 5:00 a.m. on Sunday morning. Across Nelson and Henderson Avenues, second-year students in painted overalls could be seen clutching bottles and cans under porch lights, framing their sunrise noise as “tactical mental conditioning to support our defensive line.” Meanwhile, next door, local father of two, Marc Tremblay, was frantically trying to explain to his crying four-year-old why 40 teenagers were screaming about “intercepting the Raven” on their shared front lawn before the streetlights even turned off.
By 6:15 a.m., at least three separate backyard séances were reported along Wilbrod Street, where groups of sleep-deprived students lit garnet-and-grey candles around a makeshift altar to Pedro, chanting offensive play calls from the 2024 Hail Mary game in an attempt to channel the energy of Gee-Gee winners past. The chanting proved so intense that retired librarian Eleanor Vance briefly believed her neighbourhood was hosting an unannounced suburban exorcism.
While the rituals successfully summoned a victory, third-year criminology student Tyler Vance claims the veil between realms was permanently torn above his Nelson Street duplex.
“I haven’t slept since Thursday, mostly because the shadow of a four-foot bear is currently pacing the ceiling of my bedroom,” Vance said, while attempting to re-attach a porch railing with duct tape on Sunday night. He occasionally flinched as his bedroom windows rattled with phantom bear roars.
“Last year’s loss destroyed our campus. The 5:00 a.m. pre-gaming was necessary. The séance was essential. But when we demanded Pedro’s spirit return to the north side of the Rideau Canal, we didn’t specify that he had to stay in physical form. Now my kitchen smells like ancient bamboo, the taps are running garnet liquid, and my salt shaker keeps moving on its own.”
When the final whistle blew and victory was secured, the anxiety converted into unbridled chaos. Victory ragers spilled into the streets, with students treating the stuffed bear’s return with more reverence than Ottawa treated Queen Elizabeth II’s visit. DIY Pedro replicas were paraded through Sandy Hill like religious relics, accompanied by blasting speakers and chants from students who couldn’t name a single offensive player on the roster if their degrees depended on it.
Local landlord Brad Henderson, who spent Friday afternoon fortifying his Nelson Street rental property with ballistic hurricane fabric, admitted his precautions were utterly useless against the post-game wake and the neighbourhood fallout.
“I prepped for grief-fueled rage, not victory-induced madness,” Henderson said, gesturing mournfully toward a front lawn covered in garnet confetti, crushed red cups, and a rogue shopping cart resting on his neighbour’s flower bed. “They didn’t break the window because they were mad; they broke the lattice because someone tried to crowd-surf a guy in an inflatable panda suit off the second-story balcony. Mrs. Higgins next door called the city three times before noon, and honestly, I don’t blame her; her hydrangeas will never recover.”
By sunrise, City of Ottawa by-law officers were handing out noise violations on Russell Avenue like party favours, while long-time residents cleared crushed cans and salt circles off their driveways. Hundreds of U of O students dragged their remaining souls into 8:30 a.m. lectures in the Learning Centre — still wearing smeared face paint, nursing catastrophic hangovers, and proudly asserting that Pedro is finally back where he belongs, even if he is actively levitating furniture in Tyler’s living room.
