My first year math class in undergrad was probably the most fun bunch of people I've ever met. Partially, this was simply because of the stage of life that we were all in -- I often look back at my days in first year with a sense of nostalgia, and in some ways, I've never had as much fun as I did then. But it would seem that the people involved were all truly special -- most of us are still good friends, and none of the future generations of math classes that replaced us had the kinds of exploits that we did. This is a story of one of them, so you can judge for yourself.
The story might sound a bit better if I told the events as if they were a spur of the moment thing, but that would be lying, or at the very least embelishing. The whole thing was in fact planned days in advance: we decided that we weren't showing enough appreciation to the beautiful theorems that were being proven to us on the blackboards [1], and that we should do a cheer. A time was planned (the next Algebra class), and I was appointed as the orchestrator, for better or for worse.
On the fateful day, we tried to sit in the first row to give a better performance, but I seem to recall that we were too late, and the keeners had already occupied it. The second row would have to do. Just like on a normal day, we were all busily scriblling down the notes from the board. Finally, the professor finished proving theorem number 20 [2] with a resounding "and the result follows", went to erase part of the board and was about to start writing down "Theorem 21". At this point, I'm being nudged by my neighbours, so after gathering some resolve, I stand up.
"Give me a Q!" I yell, and (somewhat shyly) look around the room. A few people bravely answer "Q!". "Give me and E!". Many more people answer this time. "Give me a D!" Still more people. "What does that spell?", I cheerfully yell out. "Q.E.D!" comes the answer, from most of the people in the class. A loud cheer follows, and I start a wave that, while not being the best executed wave we've done, makes it across the room a couple of times. Filled with excitement and joy, I sit down.
At this point, the professor, Cam "nothing will phase me" Stewart, is looking forward into the classroom, smiling as always. His first pronouncement is a somewhat confused "Okay", after which he slowly shifts to where the next theorem is about to begin, and stands for a little while. Still facing us, he says "Okay" once again, still apparently trying to comprehend what has just happened, and turns towards the board. After a short while, and a third and final "Okay", he writes on the board "Theorem 21".
[1] We did manage to show proper respect to the Fundamental Theorem of Calculus. After telling us the theorem statement, our calculus professor Brian Forrest shared his feelings on the theorem. He made it clear that it was very important. "This is probably the most important theorem you'll hear all year. In fact, it would not be inappropriate if you gave the theorem a standing ovation right now!" Of course, who are we to argue with Brian Forrest? Some of us stood up, and started applauding, and eventually, most of the room was up, showing our true appreciation for Calculus and this most important theorem.
[2] The theorem numbers have been changed to protect the innocent theorems. Actually, I have simply forgotten.