Wow, our stagnant Nittany Lions just scored a touchdown.

So what to do next?

Cheer like normal fans?

Start a wave?

Scream and bellow and loud as possible?

No, our fanatics of State College have something better in mind.

Let's throw stuff.

For years, it has been the idiotic tradition of Penn State football fans to heave filled soda cans, water bottles, and other hot and cold beverages at innocent standees just trying to enjoy a game.

If you've ever been to a game at Beaver Stadium, you know the drill. Should Rashard Casey connect a pass for anything more than 20 yards or James Boyd make a crucial third-down stop, it's a bad idea to turn your head to look at fellow fans. They'll probably be reaching for the closest thing to throw. It doesn't even take a touchdown anymore.

And even though chucking bottles should be enough to satisfy the insatiable thirst of the Penn State deviant, it usually isn't. Hot dogs become flying frankfurters and that yellow cheese from those shoddy nachos gets everywhere.

Just ask a few of your friends who at one time or another went to a Lions football game. I guarantee someone you know has a story of when "Insert Your Rival Here" played Penn State at storied Beaver Stadium and someone was pegged.

My story happened three years ago when the Wolverines traveled to Happy Valley for their shot to knock off the then 7-0 Lions.

My roommate and I were psyched. It was our freshman year, and was undoubtedly the biggest college football game we'd ever been to. It was a cold, dreary November day, but even the weather didn't curb our enthusiasm.

But something else did.

First, the 34-8 loss that Michigan handed us didn't exactly spark a fire under our numbed backsides from the cold, steel bleachers.

But as if seeing our national title hopes be whisked away wasn't enough, we were both pelted with near-full sodas that must have been at least 102 ounces. And when the blustering winds bit into our damp clothes, we felt like we'd been sacked for a loss of 20.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm a big boy. I can handle machismo and senseless aggression just as well as the next guy. But unlike other meathead fans, I have common decency and respect.

Sure, I could have been an impressionable freshman and tossed beverages and food at those lucky enough to have better seats than me.

But no, I took a minute to think and figured that hitting people with my trash would just ruin their outing.

And that's why this moronic tradition needs to stop.

I've never heard anyone say, "Hey man, did you see that soda I got nailed with when Penn State scored? That was so cool!"

No, I don't think so. Expletives and clinched fists are usually the aftermath of that juvenile behavior.

But that's not even the end of it. Someone could also get hurt, seriously hurt. Some of those bottles carry some weight, and if they hit someone at just the right spot, blood, stitches, and even some lost teeth could follow.

Now that's a long shot, but you get the idea.

Don't you?

Apparently not, because some of you -- if not most of you -- are going to continue this pathetic routine if the Nittany Lions score a touchdown against Illinois this Homecoming weekend. So I challenge the security and staff of Beaver Stadium to at least make a valiant attempt to stop this senseless behavior.

No one wins with heat-seeking soda, so why do we do it?

If Penn State fans must participate in misanthropic behavior, Beaver Stadium officials should hand out towels or other memorabilia to wave and jostle if and when the Lions score a touchdown.

And before you traditionalists get all ornery on me, understand that I'm not trying to limit excitement.

I'm trying to limit stupidity.