I, for one, don’t care how many video boards, ribbon boards, suites and train whistles are added to Mountaineer Field. What surrounds the stands matters much less than who’s in the stands. What does state-of-the-art technology mean if 40,000 people show or a sell-out crowd has 20,000 indifferent fans? Zip.

It’s inevitable, but through the years at WVU and at almost every other school, times change and with them so, too, do the demographics in the stands. It’s new generations and new behaviors. An 18-year-old may not appreciate things the same as a 58-year-old and a 58-year-old doesn’t — or shouldn’t — act the same as an 18-year-old.

Yet what if there was a way to ensure a permanent presence in the stands. What of a loud legacy and a fiery freternity? Would that not solve, or at least help the problem? Oh, there are the Maniacs, but to be honest, I have no idea what they do. I’m sure it’s something, but it’s never been clear.

Once upon a time, though, there was a crazy club known as Fi Batar Cappar. 

“We were known for pranks,” he said. “Fun-loving, spirited pranks against opposing teams, cheerleaders and fans.”

Fi Batar Cappar was allowed access to the field during football games, but that privilege was taken away when a member, draped in bathrobe and derby hat, followed a drum major onto the turf and interrupted a ceremony. 

First-year members usually sported the goofy, colorful outfits while the elder members remained in the stands dressed in suits.

A multicolored robe identified you as a member and supporter of WVU athletics, Skaff explained. But the robes were only for new members and part of the initiation process. The neophytes were typically the ones clowning around.

“They were the people that did the crazy antics,” he said.