Don’t hate me ‘cos you ain’t me

Amid all the fun and frivolity of The Tab’s ‘BNOC of the Year’ competition, a disheartening trend has begun to emerge; the trend of ‘BNOCphobia’.

One only has to glance through the plethora of comments beneath the weekly nominations to realise that a significant number of people are using the light-hearted contest as a vehicle for their petty, small-minded viewpoints.

As well as a pleasing number of banter-laden comments and inside jokes, the comment feed is swamped with an alarming number of references to the supposed egotism, vacuous nature, and sexual promiscuity of the deserving candidates, with one anonymous commenter describing the shortlist as ‘a list of people to avoid if you’d rather not contract an STI.’ There can only be one reason for such vilification, and that reason, dear readers, is jealousy.
As one of the lucky nominees, I can only assume that the comments come as a result of a complete and utter lack of comprehension of just how hard life as a BNOC can be. Did the anonymous trolls stop for one moment to consider just how much of a big deal those described as ‘arrogant bellends’ are? Did they, before posting their bile, reflect upon the daily pressures that come with such notoriety? My guess is no.

Well let me tell you how it is. Being a BNOC is hard. Anyone who has found themselves unable to walk from one end of Stocker Road to the other without being stopped a dozen times for photo calls and autographs from nameless, faceless nobodies will understand this all too well. Words cannot express just how tiring maintaining a flawless appearance, keeping track of Facebook friends, and attending the whirlwind of social events can be. So all-consuming is the BNOC’s lifestyle that almost every other aspect of their life suffers immeasurably – many have virtually no contact with their friends and families due to the endless strains on their time, bank balance, and genitals.

That is not to say, of course, that the 24/7 grind is not without its perks. Being moved without question to the head of every queue, having drinks bought for you left, right, and centre, and finding yourself the endless object of sexual attention are certainly gratifying. But such rewards come at a high price – something that so many SNOCs (that’s ‘Small Names On Campus’, to those who aren’t in the know) fail to appreciate. Yes, it’s a shame that only a small number of us can be deserving of such attention, but that, folks, is just the way the world works.

So, my friends, I beseech you to ignore that chip on your shoulder and learn to embrace the pecking order. As opposed to vilifying these prominent members of the elite, why not attempt to work your way into their inner circles? You never know, you may be lucky enough to be worthy of their attention. And if, for some reason, you’d rather spend your time besmirching their good name, just remember that beneath the glitz and glamour, the countless Facebook friends, and endless sexual conquests, there resides a thinking, feeling human being. Not only that, but a human being who is probably better than you are.