the tyranny of game day

Ann Arbor is a different place on game day.  The 110,000-faithful headed to the Big House take up a lot of space, from bars and restaurants and parking spots to simple space on streets leading to the game.  It wasn’t much of a surprise when Kathy and I were making wedding arrangements in 1986 – we wanted a fall wedding – that the first question from every establishment we consulted was “is that a game day?”.  Fortunately, 10/4/86 was at Wisconsin, a game Kathy watched downstairs while still in her wedding dress.

Many years have passed since.  The season tickets we use to access the game were first acquired by Kathy’s dad – an Ohio orthopedic surgeon who nudged athletes to Ann Arbor – were first acquired in ’61.   Every year at homecoming, they ask season ticket holders to remain standing according to the status of their holdings.  Kathy is usually “the last man standing”.  So, football Saturday has always been a big deal for us.  And we thoroughly enjoy it, sitting amongst 110,000 of our best friends, enjoying the band, and – at least for the past year – enjoying excellent football.

But something seemed to happen this year.  The drive into the B-school  parking lot less from the stadium encountered construction at many stops along the way.  The 1.3 mile walk from there to the stadium was o.k., although the “music” blaring from the frat houses along the way was an annoying feature that would only be amplified by the big scoreboards at the stadium.  We enjoy negotiating the crowds to a tailgate dedicated to “Hero of the Game”, run by a friend of ours.  The band always stops by, and the director – John Pasquale – gives his friend Kathy a hug.  Carl Grapentine – Michigan’s golden throat announcer – gives notice as to how long it is to kickoff.  We in the crowd respond, seeking the big steps into gate 1.  Last week, some sort of security issue slowed the ascent of those steps to a crawl.  By the time we got in, “band take the field” had long passed.  We were in soon enough to hear more hip-hop from the big scoreboard.  As the game proceeded, our sensibilities felt things like the 3-minute time outs (so many), the cheesy diversions during time outs, ostensibly to keep us entertained (kicking contests by students, etc), and the total absence of any music from the band in the quiet pauses, favoring instead all the raucous stuff from the scoreboard.

I actually bought a pair of noise cancelling headphones for the game.  Our seats are kitty corner from the student section, but that big scoreboard blares everywhere.  I do thank them for introducing me to “Mr. Brightside” (1).  Our seats are in the same section I scrambled with my buddies to attain as we were trying to make the most of our senior class seniority in ’73.  We still had to watch Bo’s boring teams, but we were in the stadium!

As youngsters, we wouldn’t have cared for obstacles for the game.  After all, we each had our own bottle of Boone’s Farm.  But as oldsters, all this crap makes sitting home by the TV all that more attractive.  We did that today, sitting with my brother-in-law in his assisted living facility watching the game on their big screen.   Kathy dampened some of my output.  Yelling “Orji, Orji, Orji” might not be appropriate in a facility of older persons. But what we learned is that love of Michigan football never dies.  Go Blue!!

References

1. The Killers – Mr. Brightside (Official Music Video).  YouTube https://youtu.be/gGdGFtwCNBE?si=9A8Vwv309ccKpis9