From a distance, it looked like the beginning of a medieval-style angry mob: a crowd of people shouting and waving bound clusters of bristles could look ominous in any other context.

But it was a beautiful Sunday morning and this was Turtle Cup 2012, the university’s annual fall Quidditch tournament, and 16 teams from schools up and down the East Coast assembled to compete on the home turf of the top Quidditch team in the mid-Atlantic. The university’s Flying Wizard Turtles are ranked second in the world of more than 1,000 official and non-official teams. Present to challenge them were Johns Hopkins University’s Hopkins Hallows, Kutztown University’s Kutztown Kedavras, University of Richmond’s Acromantulas, University of Virginia’s Acromantulas and Virginia Commonwealth University’s Wizengamots, among others.

At 8:30 a.m., before the first game of the day, the captains met to determine the tournament bracket. The first round of matches can be the most tense — how a team does in the preliminary rounds can make or break the day.

There’s a ritual to how these games start. The captains shake hands and game balls are laid on the field. Each team lines up before their goals and bows, with eyes closed, as the golden snitch, contained in the waistband of the snitch runner, gets a head start. On the referee’s cue, the players lunge for the balls.

But through the fierce competition is a sense of community. Players referee games for other teams and snitches volunteer to run when a match-up lacks that player. Support comes from within in the still-young sport.

“I will give everyone 5 seconds before I start making annoying noises! We need help — we can’t do these tournaments alone!” Maryland Quidditch’s captain, sophomore Josh Marks, called out over the speakers, before unleashing an ambulance-like wail.

Within minutes, a full team of referees and snitches assemble at the administration table.

Make no mistake, they are athletes, as committed to their sport as any others. It’s violent and difficult — several sidelined players sported casts, crutches and braces as they cheered.

EMTs stood by and last year, the team even splurged on a full ambulance.

“This is so stressful, I can’t even watch this,” team President and tournament Director Sarah Woolsey said, watching as the Hoth Rebels and the University of Pittsburgh went into overtime after a close match. The Rebels went on to win, 110-80.

“We haven’t really had any major crises or issues aside from injuries, and people really seem to be enjoying themselves, so it’s a good day,” she added.

But it’s athletics with a sense of humor — operating under three key International Quidditch Association values: competition, creativity and community.

Team jerseys feature fractions and symbols, and each team has their own set of cheers. They accessorize their uniforms with neon socks and bandanas. In one of the preliminary rounds, seven Philly Honey Badgers, a community team, broke into the “Gangnam Style” dance on the field.

“Dooh!” Sasha Azar exclaimed as a snitch runner with a can of shaving cream tackled the Chestnut Hill seeker in a match against the UVA Whomping Wahoos.

He and his wife Chris drove down from Philadelphia to cheer on their son, a University of Pittsburgh junior.

“It’s hard to watch at first because there is so much going on and it’s hard to keep track of everything,” Chris Azar said. “We’ve been watching Quidditch for the last few years. It’s nice to see the teams getting better and the equipment is improving. It’s getting to be a bigger sport.”

The concept of Quidditch emerged in 1997, when the first of the books in award-winning author J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series hit bookstores in the United Kingdom. It was the story of a meek orphan who discovers he has a penchant for magic and has ensuing adventures in the wizarding world, which include discovering a sport called Quidditch.

While many may dismiss today’s players as geeky or immature, it takes courage and skill to flagrantly place a broomstick between your legs and run. To the untrained eye, it looks like madness. But it’s an organized madness, with rules and a history and a charm to it. Even the two EMTs on duty, who were first-time Quidditch spectators, were getting into the game.

“I think it’s awesome that people can come together for a made-up sport,” said University of Pennsylvania chaser sophomore Molly Markell, “and be so intense about it and have a great time.”

Though there’s often a wide disparity in the skill levels present on any Quidditch team, and some teams are visibly newer to the game than others, this university’s members carry a rigorous training schedule to maintain their reputation. Flying Wizard Turtles train for two hours Sundays, Mondays and Thursdays with 90-minute strength and conditioning sessions Tuesdays and Fridays. Beaters can opt for an additional 90-minute practice Wednesday nights.

The championship match came down to the 72nd-ranked Penn State and Maryland. Both fielded their best players, such as university graduate James Hicks, who traveled to London this summer for the Olympic Quidditch scrimmages.

At times, the competition was intense and players were reduced to piles of limbs and broomsticks.

Maryland won 150 to 60 when seeker Harry Greenhouse captured the snitch. After singing the Maryland fight song, Marks accepted a homemade first-place trophy. Penn State took home the silver trophy and Salisbury won the sportsmanship award.

“I’m really proud of Maryland Quidditch,” said chaser and junior journalism major Samantha Medney. “We really joined together and proved we could play together for the victory.”

As the day wore on and the eliminated teams packed up to leave one by one, they weren’t quite so sad.

“Even though we didn’t do very well, it was still a lot of fun,” Markell said.