Let the Feathers Fly: 2010

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I have never thought, “I might hit you in the face later this evening,” so many times on the L Taraval before. My anger obviously would not be expressed with fists, but with fluff, as Muni was packed with pillow fighters between 5 and 9 o’clock February 14^th , heading down to Justin Herman Plaza for the Great Pillow Fight; a Bay Area tradition that has been shamelessly copied by numerous other cities across the nation.

This year’s pillow fight enjoyed exponential growth over last years, containing what I would estimate to be around 5000 pillow fighters in total. In fact, when the fighting began, it was so packed in the plaza that the great pillow shove might’ve been a more descriptive term for the event. But as time progressed and the feint of heart left, only true pillow masters remained and one-on-one pillow duels commenced.

“The trick is to not wear anything that distinguishes you from the crowd,” said Clint Wolfrom, cameraman/Captain of a team of Sacred Heart pillow fighters (myself included) that went through the crowd brutally taking on other pillow fight teams and ganging up on people in enraging attire, such as cowboys, Pikachus, Hippies, Jonas Brothers look alikes, anyone wearing purple skinny jeans, and of course that one fool in a Where’s Waldo outfit.

Two hours into the war, we decided to call it quits and marched out of plaza, kicking up downy feathers as we went, which coved the Embarcadero in the closest thing San Francisco will ever experience to snow.

Call it immature, call it stupid, but you definitely can’t call the Pillow Fight gay, as every single member of our team reported some sort of injury by the night’s end. A couple of head shots from fists rather than fluff, nose blows from elbows, and one crushing crotch shot, but nothing serious enough to put a damper on an excellent evening. When in doubt, leave it up to San Francisco to throw the best party on any given holiday.