Is this too many balloons?

Athletics departments face a number of existential questions these days. Fortunately, none of them have to do with money. In this era of unlimited official and unofficial recruiting visits, football programs must confront one particularly essential matter: how many balloons is the right amount of balloons?

I think everyone understands that, in order to be competitive on the recruiting trail, you need a lot of balloons. A huge number of balloons. A number of balloons that the recruits can see from the sky as their plane lands at the airport. But it’s not just about a number. These must also be tasteful balloons. Colorful balloons. Balloons that say, “yes, we’re fancy,“ but in a casual way.

When it comes down to it, can you really put a price on these efforts? Actually, yeah, you can, you definitely can. Thanks to intrepid FOIA-submitter David Covucci, we now know that NC State football spent nearly $44,000 on balloons in 2024. And NC State was hardly alone in significant balloon and balloon-related spending.

These numbers lead to myriad questions. Do we have a balloon guy? Do we need a balloon guy? Do we have a good balloon guy? I like the idea that there is a giant basement in the Murphy Center, seen by few, an undiscovered country of party favors run by a fellow who is a little like Willy Wonka. The balloons themselves are child’s play; what’s an appropriate amount of glitter for a three-star in-state prospect versus a four-star kid from Georgia? What’s Georgia’s annual glitter spend? This why you need a guy. Someone who is tapped in, who lives and breathes balloon bouquets.

(intercom buzzing)

Geoff: Yes, Tina?

Tina (via intercom): A mister Corrigan here to see you, sir.

Geoff (bolts upright, dusts glitter off shoulders): Shit shit shit. Okay, we knew this day would come. Send him in.

(Boo Corrigan opens office door, a cadre of small monkeys on bicycles scatter)

Geoff (forced smile): Mr. Corrigan! Please, sit down.

(Boo takes a seat; a whoopie cushion sounds, a smattering of confetti shoots out from a recess in the wall and smacks him in the side of his head)

Geoff: Whoops, forgot to turn those off. Anyway, I’m very busy; what can I do for you?

Boo (frowning): So I was looking at some spreadsheets, Jeff.

Dr. Geoff: It’s Geoff. Dr. Geoff.

Boo (frown intensifies): So I was looking at some spreadsheets, Dr. Geoff.

Dr. Geoff: This sounds serious. (opens up a humidor full of kazoos) Cigar?

Boo: Ah, no thank you.

Dr. Geoff: Suit yourself. (picks the red one with a lot of frills on it) You were saying?

Boo: Right, so I was looking at—

(office door flies open, Dave Doeren appears and doubles over, out of breath)

Dr. Geoff: Is it 10:30 already?

Boo: 10:30?

Dave (breathing heavily, hands on knees): I need a Helium Hoss, four Tiny Tims, a Sparkle Kablam, and fifty-two Bing Bang Booms. It’s an emergency. … Oh, hi, Boo.

Dr. Geoff (picking up the phone, shooing Boo out the door): Right, right, I’m on it, coach.

Dave: And I need it yesterday.

Boo (backing away): What on earth is this?

Dr. Geoff (easing the door closed on Boo): This is a Monday. Now if you would please let the professionals get to work? Thanks.