Game Day Experience, part II. “Reality Delay”

Another football game? I really didn’t expect I’d be attending two games, less the Wisconsin game. Peer pressured into it after a good bowl of oatmeal and Miley Cyrus this morning to sustain myself throughout the day. Micah, Anil, Jive, Mitch, Sam, Andy, Vincent. Sam is wearing a sweet half-maroon, half-gold frazzled whig. I don’t believe I am wearing the Colors. I bought student tickets freshman year, realized my mistake, and haven’t been to another game since Cal.

“Are you loud and proud? Then, you’re Golden.” The advertisements have already started. I don’t know if they are referencing the beer or the team. Inconsequential. Less noteworthy things this time. A page or two of small notes. The more I write, the more I can make up, plus a few more minor details: The kid next to me used to be in Beta, he got kicked out, or was it his twin? Today he is smoking electronic cigarettes and appearing rowdy. Other dignitaries include Tim Weiske. The flags (Big Ten) fly on the north side of the stadium today. Flying straight in the stiff breeze.

Sidenote on capitalism, though. The Jalapeño Cheese Vendor Guy with D & D Concessions has been selling you your cheese for fifteen years as a sidejob. Says it is a “great experience;” normally he installs telephone poles as a day job. This is nice; he was glad to talk.

Jon is our ticket scanner; we enter in Gate C. No intent to sneak anything in (lies) so we go through the express line sans bags and man-purses. Around me are a lack of quotable people, decked out in facepaint and looking hardcore.

Adam Weber and Marquis Gray are warming up together (failing to mention that we are there an hour before gametime, section 127. Girls in capes behind us. A potential [ ] band name.

Flynn and the 1500 Block Gang are spotted at their house along with some beautiful Winona women. No time to stop. We’ve got a game to lose.

I am absolutely inundated with advertisements today.
Today more than everyday. I would say it is already 100-200 ads.
Extremely selfish to think that I don’t care about the outcome of the game but rather am glad I don’t have to clean up the mess left by the placards used as a “stunt” to get the student section on the jumbotron.

They were strategically placed to make it appear in a pattern. A cool idea, one that my friend pitched back when he was working at the Daily. But the leftover mess is out of control, with thousands of wet, semi-cardboard/paper cards tossed to the ground and stepped on, mashing it into the concrete. Extremely happy not to be cleaning this mess up; I think the STS people will take care of this.

I did it nearly weekly on a much smaller scale for an old job, making it a formative experience- I pretty much will never throw anything, seeds/shells/paper/cups/bags/cans/chew on bleachers again. Ever. Herein lies salvation to humanity.

Collegiate epiphany, late in the Game (not football): Promos, marketing, etc. The University survives on selling inflation. That’s pretty much it. That’s what this is in front of me. A show, sold, packaged. The Dean’s truck really needs to stop driving by. It goes by, tempting the subconscious. Eat Dean’s Meat? I think it is on its fifth time around the block.

And I am amazed by a second thing this morning: We gather here in these stadiums and spectate the glories of the battlefield. A very human thing with football America’s solution to taking out aggression. Player versus player. State versus state. Every Minnesotan simply gets along with a person from Wisconsin as a courtesy. No doubt they’d kill them in their sleep given the opportunity.

I remember when I shook Fun Bobby’s hand at freshmen orientation in June. I knew who he was before I shook his hand. Not many in line knew he was the president. Pride in knowing the temporary unknown. Bud Grant is saluted, he looks crochety. I give the man respect for still putting on the show. The Rouser is played. The Gophers are up three at halftime.