The Goldfellas: The Georgia Tech Superfan Group
By: George Spencer | Categories: Tech History
One hundred and sixty-nine games. The Goldfellas have done their bare-chested, yellow-painted superfan thing, as of press time, for 169 consecutive home football games (since October 17, 1998).
This hard-yelling, pumped-up, wigged-out posse may be the hardest of Georgia Tech’s hard-core fans. What’s more, it seems that few if any college or pro football teams have such an eye-popping entourage, and if so, it’s likely that none have been around as long as the Goldfellas.
The Martin Scorsese mobster movie Goodfellas inspired their name. “We always called each other goodfellas,” says a character. “Like you’d say to somebody: ‘You’re gonna like this guy. He’s all right. He’s a goodfella. He’s one of us.’ You understand? We were goodfellas—wiseguys.”
Robert Bills, CS 00, and Ryan Baldwin, EE 02, founded the group. The duo also considered—and perhaps wisely discarded—the name Gold Club, an homage to the Atlanta strip club.
The way Bills remembers it, Baldwin came to him in mid-October 1998 with a question—“What do you think about me getting this group of freshmen I know and all of us painting ourselves yellow and going to the game?”
That match-up happened to be the famed last-second 41-38 homecoming victory against seventh-ranked UVA.
“I was, like, ‘I’m down with that,’” replied the computer science major, and they and all the golden guys hollered their ever-lovin’ heads off in the end zone student section. (They added wigs and pom-poms the next game.)
After trailing the entire UVA game, Tech stole the lead late in the fourth quarter with a 54-yard touchdown toss to wide receiver Dez White. With 26 seconds remaining, UVA’s field goal attempt failed. Delirious fans stormed the field and tore down the goalposts. Tech went 9-2 that season. After being crowned co-ACC champs with Florida State, the Yellow Jackets bested Notre Dame 35-28 in the Gator Bowl.
Naturally, the newly formed Goldfellas dove into the goalpost action. After grabbing a big section, they paraded with it to the president’s house. The next week, the athletic department asked them to pose behind the fence on the field. ESPN’s GameDay captured their antics for a national audience.
“It just takes a ringleader—or a couple—to make things happen,” says Bills, who is now president of NAL Research, a D.C.-area satellite communications company. When asked if Tech whipped UVA thanks to the Goldfellas, Bills deadpans, “Absolutely, of course.”
The next year’s home contest against Georgia proved to be a religious experience. Late in the game, the Bulldogs made up a 17-point deficit to tie Tech 48-48. But when Georgia fumbled at Tech’s two-yard line with 13 seconds left, the Yellow Jackets took possession and won 51-48 in overtime. “A miracle,” said the TV announcer. Again, down came the goalposts.
“I brought my piece of goalpost to church the next day. I could barely whisper I was so hoarse,” recalls Baldwin, who now works in cybersecurity sales for Verizon in Atlanta. Why did he bring his holy gridiron relic to church? “I just had to brag about what I was doing the night before,” he says.
Hail the Yellow Jacket King
All Goldfellas, male or female, are equal, but the student with the highest GPA is first among equals. Today all Goldfellas know their leader as “Off-Brand Buzz.”
Special responsibilities fall to the buzziest of them all. Other male Goldfellas must go topless. They slather themselves with yellow body paint from Party City and daub on four black armbands. Not Off-Brand Buzz. He has a special costume. He gets to don a black tank top, strap on a pair of child’s fairy wings, and wear insectoid-looking dark glasses.
A three-year Goldfellas veteran, Max Hollister, BME 21, wore the wings of leadership. His duties included buying paint and wrangling his fellow madcap zanies into line for home games. (Max’s twin brother Sebastian, CS 21, was a Goldfella, too.)
A native of Ann Arbor, Michigan, Hollister admits it was a “tough adjustment” trading his love for the University of Michigan Wolverines for his adopted school. “Being a Goldfella was such a hype way to enjoy a football game,” recalls Hollister, a clinical development engineer at Intuitive Surgical, a robotic-surgery company based in Sunnyvale, California.
As ringleader, his responsibilities included keeping a three-ring binder look-book of the faces of all Goldfellas past and present. Goldfellas have a rule—like the members of the rock band KISS—they each must have unique black facial markings. Newbies scour the book’s archives for ferocious and fun design ideas.
Hollister had another important duty. He was a spell-checker. For each game Goldfellas write a message in big black letters on their torsos. This human tweet is tailored to mock that day’s opponent and amuse Tech fans.
This year, one message was Fluke Devils. The Duke visitors were 5-0, and the Goldfellas thought their spotless record was unearned. Fittingly, Tech handed the Blue Devils their first defeat.
One timeless Goldfellas message is always a fan-favorite—THWg—To Hell With georgia!
Always a “Spectacle”
Grant Marshall, a third-year civil engineering major, got stung by the Goldfellas bug at Traditions Night as a first-year. A member since the first game that year, he carries on the group’s 26-year tradition and serves as its latest Off-Brand Buzz.
For every Saturday home game, he totes the paint stored in his dorm room to the meet-up spot, the Howey Physics Building. He makes sure everyone has donned lemon-colored wigs. He checks that all Goldfellas have bright canary pom-poms. Most of all, he confirms that every guy and gal is yellow-bellied (color-wise, that is). For this rowdy crew, all yellow shades are acceptable—except mellow yellow.
Only after all preparations are complete do these happy few, this band of brothers and sisters, march through campus to do battle.
Along the way they sing “Ramblin’ Wreck from Georgia Tech,” “Up With the White and Gold,” and “To Hell With Georgia.” (Other songs have included “Clemson is a Redneck School.”)
The Goldfellas stop to bask in fans’ affection. “Little kids always come up and want their photos taken with us,” says Marshall. Tailgaters offer them burgers, barbecue, and beverages to sustain them for the long hours of hunger-inducing cheering that lie ahead.
“Our trip to the stadium is a spectacle,” says the engineering major. “We love to get everyone cheering and screaming and singing the fight songs.”
Recalls Goldfellas founder Bills, “We had a good time and did ridiculous things—good college fun. Maybe we did some light-hearted mischief, but we were trying to do the right thing most of the time.
”As for all that yellow paint, there’s one thing all Goldfellas agree on. It’s a chore to scrub off.
“God help you if you’re like me and have a hairy chest,” says Bills.
Watch How The Goldfellas Prepare For Gameday!
