It’s a weeknight rehearsal in the Humanities building on the University of Wisconsin-Madison campus, and the scene is chaos. Somebody’s playing the piano. Somebody else is eating Doritos. One guy is mugging for the photographer with a bottle of Tabasco sauce (“Take a picture of this!”). Everybody is talking and laughing.
Eventually the dozen or so college boys meander toward the center of the room, pushing back chairs and tables and lining up in a horseshoe formation. Someone plays the starting pitch.