By James W. Dolan

A little known fact learned on my recent trip to Italy will not be found in history or travel books. I was hoping to bring back some information on ancient Rome that was out of the ordinary.

Luckily I found it while on a tour of the Coliseum. An imposing structure built in the first century A.D.; it sat about 50,000 spectators for all sorts of sporting events. In those days "Gladiator Nation" measured a good event by how many participants were killed.

Throwing in a few lions and tigers and some Christians made for a great day at the park. The stands were full of cheering fans most cheering for the animals and a few (the quiet ones) rooting for the Christians. For them there was little to celebrate with the scoreboard showing Lions 5, Christians 0.

The gladiators were the rock and sports stars of their day. They make the athletes of today look like wimps. Instead of pitch counts, they had body counts. Instead of batting averages, they had kill ratios. There were no times-out or referees. The team physician was an undertaker. Only 30 percent of the athletes, who were mostly slaves, survived spring training.

On game day, a steady stream of fans moved back and forth to the concession stands where wine and pepperoni were the local favorites. It wasn't until the fifth century that Cassius Budweiserus invented beer. A device to carry beer was developed two centuries later by Sixtus Packus.

Rich patricians viewed the events from skyboxes perched around the rim of the stadium while the plebeians often had to fight for standing room. As you might expect the restrooms were primitive and the drainage poor particularly at the upper levels.

It was hot in the Coliseum during the summer and as the afternoon wore on the fans would become more and more excited. The heat and odor problem became serious. The nobles struggled to come up with a way to make the games less "gamey."

A little known Roman plumber, after careful study, came up with a solution. He suggested that periodically during the games, the fans all stand up sequentially and swing their arms and togas up and down. This, he said, would circulate the air and drive the heat and foul odors out through the top of the stadium. The Roman senate was skeptical but Caesar pointed out that on a hot afternoon almost as many people were dying in the stands as were being killed on the field.

They decided to give it a try so on a hot July afternoon, a proclamation was read just before game-time by Raucus Riotus, the Coliseum announcer, instructing the fans in this new technique.

Periodically during the afternoon, he would step out of the broadcast booth and lead the fans as they went through the motions. Sure enough it was a resounding success. It not only drove the foul odors out of the stadium but the fanning action reduced the temperature 10 degrees.

Before that the nobles commonly referred to a plebian in attendance as a "loudus mouthus." Thereafter, they were the "fani" - later shortened to fan.

The Roman senate honored the obscure plumber who discovered this technique with a monument. On a pedestal outside the Coliseum until it was destroyed in 807 was a sculpture of "Flavius Wavius - Inventor of the Wave."

You see, the maneuver that has been passed down through the centuries has its roots in ancient Rome. Then it was for cooling and cleaning the air, now it emerges from somewhere deep in the genes of sports fans as they pay tribute to athletes on the field and each other. Few know its genesis.

For me, it is a tribute to our "fancestors" and to the creative genius of Flavius Wavius. Long may we wave!

(James W. Dolan is a retired Dorchester District Court judge who now practices law at Dolan, Connly & Flaherty, 50 Redfield St., Dorchester, e-mail jdolan@dolanconnly.com)