A sixteen year odyssey across the backroads of America during the ultimate College Football roadtrip.

Category: Games (Page 9 of 22)

Rutgers vs Howard: Scarlet Knights bury the Bison…

As another fall is ushered in, and my sixth season of travels begins, home base has once again changed. Now located in New Hampshire, my football travels will become increasingly challenged as the entire Northeast corridor is a vacuum for great college football. This season will inevitably mean more flights, and carefully arranged planning to make the most of my precious fall weekends. Spontaneity will give way to more advance planning and preparation, a new challenge as I continue to probe further into the depths of the sport.

With their long anticipated move to the Big 10, however, Rutgers offered a reasonably exciting opportunity to open my season at a bigger conference venue. As the “birthplace” of college football, Rutgers is considered the founding father of the sport when, in 1869, they squared off against Princeton in front of College Avenue Gymnasium in the first ever inter collegiate football game. While the program has enjoyed mixed success in recent years, their expansion into the Big 10 seeks to bring new revenue streams into the state university of New Jersey despite the challenges of gaining traction in an area dominated by a huge NFL presence. Personally, I think both Rutgers and Maryland are incongruent fits for the Big 10, but as a scholar of the sport, I wanted to scope out the scene there regardless.

I hit the road on Friday night after work, piling into “White Lightning” – my white, 2002 Jetta TDI – that reads 170,000 miles on the odometer. Despite a season ending breakdown in late November last year during a particularly frigid run to Northern Illinois, the little car is fully repaired and ready for another 100,000 miles or so of flawless service. After only a few minutes in the car, however, it’s a sobering reminder of how excruciating driving in the Northeast can be. Traffic every 20 minutes, pothole infested roads under perpetual construction, and obnoxious, aggressive drivers swerving across lanes at every opportunity. It’s a close cousin to a county fair demolition derby, complete with the concrete “Jersey” crash barriers. After a few white knuckled hours in the car, I long for the flat open plains of Texas, or the vast expanse of the New Mexico high desert. Driving in this part of the world is sheer toil.

After a couple of hours on the road, I pull into New Haven, Connecticut a stone’s throw from the Yale University campus and squeeze into a parking spot in front of a tiny, innocuous red brick building. It’s here, in this little brick building that Louis Lassen claims to have invented the hamburger back in 1895 at his appropriately dubbed business; Louis’ Lunch. The ancient little building is still owned and operated by third generation family member Jeff Lassen, and the humble interior is decorated with names and dates carved into every surface of the ancient wood booths. In a nod to simplicity, Louis’ menu is exclusively burgers. Your only options here are cheese, tomatoes, and onions; no condiments are permitted – especially ketchup. To pay my respects, I order up two with the works, and hand over twelve dollars in cash; naturally Louis’ doesn’t take plastic.

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I chat up the grill man while I wait, the line forming eight people deep during dinner service, and later will well out the door after the dozens of local Yale bars close in the early morning. According to him, they can go through as much as 500lbs of ground beef a day, and he prepares each burger to order in an ancient vertical cast iron grill – the same grill that’s been in continuous operation since 1898. If there’s another grill in the country still going strong after 116 years, I’d like to see it. The burgers arrive unceremoniously, wrapped in butcher paper that turns a delightful shade of translucent grey as the grease drips through. Served medium rare, the sandwiches are a precarious affair, as the lightly toasted slices of thin white bread don’t hold up well under the heft of the thick patties. But when they’ve been served this way for well over a century, and I’ll not dare question the genius of a pioneer like Mr. Lassen.

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The next morning I finish the drive down to Rutgers, crossing through the industrial wasteland surrounding I-95 in North Jersey – a landscaped dominated by marshland and oil refineries. Arriving near the newly baptized “High Point Solutions” Stadium, parking logistics become an immediate frustration. I’m informed that none of the parking within eyesight of the stadium is available without an advanced purchase hang tag – no cash lots, no side streets, no lawn parking – zip. Instead, I’m forced to park at a remote overflow lot for $20 and take a shuttle bus over to the stadium – a situation that puts me at the mercy of public transportation.

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Visiting Big 10 fans will be in for a rude awakening at the cultural desert surrounding Rutgers Stadium, an offsite monolith plunked coldly into the middle of nothing – exactly like its sterile NFL counterparts a few miles up the road. Here in Piscataway, you’ll be corralled into a sea of gravel, and removed from any semblance of atmosphere or community. No stores, no pubs, no campus, no semblance of college atmosphere whatsoever. It’s a far cry from the charm of spending a game day pub crawling through Madison or tailgating under the fall colors in a grove in Bloomington. On the bright side, however, the tailgating scene is surprisingly robust, and a few of Jersey’s finest sons should keep you suitably entertained.

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Strolling up to the box office to get a feel for ticket availability, I recoil at the $55 face value for a seat against a tomato can opponent like Howard. As usual, I opt to try my luck on the streets instead, and, quite literally thirty seconds later, I’m handed a freebie by a guy standing outside the stadium with fistfuls of extra tickets. They were given to him as part of a promotion, and he’s kind enough to pass the good will on to me. Say what you will about brusque talking Jersey natives, evidently a few of them ain’t so bad.

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I find respite under a few of the broad shade trees outside the box office, taking refuge from the sweltering 90 degree heat. The band marches by a few minutes later in a procession of brassy regalia. Donning full red and black, long sleeved uniforms, they might have to break out the smelling salts later this afternoon to ward off collapse. As a voice cracks over the loudspeaker, it signals my entrance into Rutgers Stadium, excuse me – “High Point Solutions” stadium. With a stated capacity of only 55,000 it’s one of the smallest stadiums in the Big10, but with an FCS opponent like Howard in town, the Scarlet Knights will still struggle to fill it for the home opener.

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After the game kicks off, the Biston strike first by marching the length of the field for a touchdown after forcing the Scarlet Knights to punt on their first possession. But after the initial blow by Howard, the Scarlet Knights take over from there. Senior quarterback Gary Nova slings the ball all over the field, firing three touchdowns in the first half alone, and four total on the day. Despite my free ticket in the upper deck, I slip into a few seats under the shade of the grandstands, retreating from the oppressive sun. The students take note too, and after halftime with the Scarlet Knights leading 31-7 most of them retreat back to the comfort of the tailgating lots, leaving a ghost town in the student seating section. While the Bison would punch in a few late touchdowns in the 4th quarter against the second string Rutgers defenders to bring the final score to a respectable 38-25, the game was never in question. Despite the easy win, the Scarlet Knights will face their first real test of the season next week, when they open their Big 10 schedule against the visiting Nittany Lions of Penn State.

But the question isn’t whether Rutgers is ready for the Big 10. The real question is whether the Big 10 is ready for Jersey….

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Michigan State vs Minnesota: Spartans spear the Gophers…

During Thanksgiving weekend in Ann Arbor, I opted instead for a trip over to East Lansing to see one of the few remaining Big 10 schools that I have left on my travels: Michigan State.  With a conference game against Minnesota to finish out their regular season, the Spartans were only a couple of wins away from a trip to the Rose Bowl, or, given their lone defeat on the season, perhaps even more.  They made things more interesting than they needed to be against an opponent like the Gophers, however, slinking away with a narrow 14-3 win on the strength of their noted stingy defense.  After the game we walked the nice campus grounds of MSU across the banks of the Red Cedar River before grabbing a thick burger and a few pints at the landmark Crunchy’s Pub.  We then chased the burger with a few scoops of ice cream from the Michigan State Dairy Store, an on campus dairy that features their own ice cream and cheeses.   East Lansing is definitely a place I’d like to return to, especially as they continue their recent dominance in the Big 10.

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Central Michigan vs Eastern Michigan: Chips ground the Eagles…

Visiting my sister on a whim in Ann Arbor, Michigan for the long Thanksgiving weekend, I naturally poured over the college football calendar looking for some action in the mitten state.   With a Saturday contest had already scheduled in East Lansing (yes, intentionally bypassing the Michigan vs. Ohio State game in the Big House), Friday afternoon would enable me to catch my 4th MAC conference game in the last two weeks.  The Central Michigan Chippewas were hosting their cross state rival Eastern Michigan Eagles for a Wolverine State showdown.

I make quick work of the two hour drive up to the college football hotbed of Mount Pleasant, Michigan.  The roads in the state are surprisingly amicable to drive. Wide open and straight, with 70mph speed limits, I zip across flat, frozen plains of harvested corn fields and ramshackle white barns.  A few inches of snow dust the ground, but road crews had been out in force, laying a carpet of salt overnight and the tarmac is smooth sailing.  As I pull into Mt. Pleasant,  I sniff out some free parking in a retail lot on the corners of Broomfield and Mission Streets and bundle myself in winter clothing.  A grey blanket hovers low in the sky blocking the sun, and with the mercury dipping to 23 degrees, it portends a bitter afternoon.

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It’s a quick walk to Kelly Shorts Stadium, where a handful of tents and RV’s are scattered about the main parking lot.  Between the frigid weather and Thanksgiving holiday, the numbers are noticeably subdued and the tailgating scene is nearly a ghost town.  With most of the students out of town for the long weekend, the game itself will be a quiet one as well.  I scoop up a ticket at the little wooden box office for face value of $15, as the sidewalks are completely void of ticket resellers.  Grabbing a bucket of hot cocoa for the chilly afternoon ahead, I settle into a nice seat on the empty aluminum bleachers near midfield.

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Shortly after the game kicks off, the Chippewas take to the ground.  They feed workhorse running back Zurlon Tipton a steady diet of handoffs, and the 6-0” 220lb juggernaut produces.  He runs roughshod over the hapless Eagles defense, breaking soft tackles with his pair of Clydesdale quads while stiff arming hapless safeties into the turf.  All told, he streaks for four touchdowns on the day, amassing 216 rushing yards in the process.  The Chips’ add some more excitement for the meager 5,214 person crowd in the second half, when speedster Courtney Williams takes the ensuing kickoff to the house on an 84 yard sprint.  Upon each successive Central Michigan score, the PA announcer excitedly bellows “Fire up Chips!!!”  His vocal chords get a workout for the day, as the Chippewas eventually run away with an unchallenged blowout 42-10 victory.   The win evens their record at 6-6 for the season, and grants them bowl eligibility for the second year in a row.

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Kelly Shorts Stadium Wide

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Northern Illinois vs Western Michigan: Huskies finish the season the “Hard Way”…

Another week, another mid week MAC Conference game.  This time, my travels take me to glamorous Dekalb, Illinois to see the undefeated Northern Illinois Huskies.  The Western Michigan Broncos would be their final test of the regular season. With a lofty #14 ranking in the polls, the Huskies had an outside shot at getting into a BCS game if they could win this one and the proceeding MAC Championship game.  But with the mercury dipping well into the teens (single digits with wind chill) and a dusting of snow on the radar, this would be far from a comfortable affair.  I packed enough winter clothing for a polar expedition into the Jetta, loaded up on sunflower seeds, and sped off to Dekalb for a 4-1/2 hour ride.

As I make my way north along I-55 in southern Illinois, I gingerly set the cruise control at moderate 70mph.  From experience, Illinois is a state riddled with overzealous state troopers, and today proves no exception.  During the 90 mile stretch between Saint Louis and Springfield, IL I gaspingly count over 30 cruisers craftily tucked into blind medians and bridge abutments.  That’s one cruiser for every three miles of road. While I’m sure it’s paramount to public safety to so aggressively patrol a highway that bisects mile upon mile of fallow cornfields, perhaps the brilliant political minds in Illinois should consider redeploying those resources to better good.  Like, for instance, the south side of Chicago; a place which enjoys one of the highest violent crime and murder rates in the country.

Political musings aside, I make a stop for lunch in Springfield, Illinois at the infamous Maid Rite sandwich shop.  While there are a handful of Maid Rite locations spread throughout the Midwest, this one enjoys some historical significance.  Located along historic Route 66, Springfield was a key stop between the Chicago and Saint Louis corridor of the “Mother Road”.  Shortly after first opening its doors in 1921, this Springfield Maid Rite opened a drive thru window for hungry wayfarers looking to grab a quick bite on their way.  A seemingly innocuous innovation at the time, this proved to be the first drive-thru window in the country, earning itself a spot on the National Register of Historic Places and spawning an entire “food in the car” culture.  So the next time you pull into Taco Bell at 3AM with a chalupa hankering, you can thank the little Maid Rite in Springfield, Illinois for making it all possible.

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I opt for dine in to stretch the legs a bit, and order a pair of their signature “loose meat” sandwiches – spiced, finely ground beef served on a soft white bun.  Naturally, I wash it down with a frosty mug of their home made root beer.  Combined, I think the entire order costs five bucks.  This is simpler food, from a simpler time, but it’s cheap and efficient, and has me back on the road ten minutes later.

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I plod the remaining few hours through the sweeping cornfields of northern Illinois and pull into Dekalb about an hour before kickoff.  Snow flurries trickle from the sky, and a fresh white layer blankets the parking lots.  I don enough layers for Shackleton’s voyage and set off towards the beckoning lights of Huskie stadium.  Incredibly, tailgaters are out in droves in the parking lots adjacent to the field.  Wearing colorful, insulated snowmobiling gear they huddle around garbage can fires, clutching beers and steaming cups of Irish coffee as the wind whips through the frigid night.  A few of the more reasonably minded retreat into the inviting yellow glow of their cozy RV’s, sheltered from the harsh elements.  Uncle Eddie would be proud…

I plow through the flurry outside Huskie Stadium on the hunt for tickets, but even the scalpers are smart enough to stay home on a night like tonight.  After a futile search, I huddle into the warm confines of the Yordon Athletic Center, chatting up a handful of other Huskie fans with the same idea.  After hearing my story, they hand over a free ticket from a fistful of extras, as a few of their fair weather family member declined to show up.  As an added bonus, the game tonight is general admission seating, so I’ll be able to sit wherever I please.

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I crowd into the stadium and stake out a choice spot along the fifty yard line, while the frigid aluminum bleachers immediately suck what little warmth remains.  With a little sunshine, day games in the cold can be quite tolerable, but at night the bitter air is unrelenting, there is no escape from its chilly grasp. Before the game kicks off, each senior is honored at mid field as part of the final home game ceremonies.  Heisman contending quarterback Jordan Lynch in particular, gets as rousing a standing ovation as the 17,679 person crowd can muster.  Even the Huskies mascot – a Siberian Husky named “Diesel”- is honored before the game.  After nine seasons of loyal service, the majestic Husky is retiring, and “Mission” a new two year old purebred pooch will replace his position howling away on the sidelines.

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On the field, the game is, quite simply, the one man Jordan Lynch show.  With the frigid temperatures and snowy conditions thwarting air attacks, he takes to the ground, and runs roughshod over the hapless one-win Broncos.  Lynch carries the ball an astounding 27 times, and amasses 321 rushing yards alone – good enough to break his own FBS record for Quarterback rushing yards in a single game. He would eventually rush for three touchdowns, and pass for another; bringing his season total to 22 passing touchdowns against 20 rushing touchdowns.  Only five quarterbacks in FBS division football history have ever had 20/20 seasons, and a few of those guys have a big bronze trophy sitting on their mantle at home.  While the merits of his Heisman consideration are still debatable, Lynch is easily one of the most impressive players in the country to watch.

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At halftime, I hang out in the bathroom for warmth, crowded into to the only heated space in Huskie Stadium with dozens of others retreating from the 3 degree wind chill temperatures.  As the feeling returns to my fingers and toes, a moment of clarity washes over me in that cramped little concrete restroom. Tonight the Huskie squad is sporting alternate black and chrome jerseys, emblazoned on the back is the team slogan “The Hard Way”.  The words have become a sort of mantra for the Huskie program, as the entire roster is filled with players that went overlooked by some of the bigger programs. Everything they’ve accomplished to date – the unbeaten record, playing in the snow, and hopefully getting to a BCS bowl game – they’ll have to do the Hard Way.  Nothing will come easy for them.  It’s an appropriate slogan for the crowd on a night like tonight too. As I emerge from the heat of the bathroom, with the Huskies comfortably in control and the outcome never in doubt, it would be easy to split.  It would be easy to jump in my warm car and jaunt back to St. Louis, avoiding another two hours of frigid football.  But this little pursuit of mine isn’t always about the easy games – the big games between two SEC juggernauts slugging it out in a 100,000 seat stadium.  Anybody can stick around for those.  If I want to keep exploring every corner, every facet, of this beautiful American sport, sometimes it will mean driving 5 hours each way, to stand alone in a 15 degree blizzard, in a tiny stadium in Dekalb, Illinois, on a Tuesday night, to witness a blowout.

Sometimes…I’ll just have to do it the Hard Way.

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And with that, per my usual form, I stay for the entire contest while most of the crowd withdraws for warmer pastures.  The Huskies roll to a 33-14 victory to complete their unbeaten regular season.  Lynch’s play states his demand for the Heisman on the field, and with a final MAC Conference Championship game remaining at Ford Field in Detroit, the Huskies will make their case for BCS Bowl consideration.  And, as always, they’ll have to do it the Hard Way too.

On the way home after the final whistle, however, tragedy ensues.  My trusty steed “White Lightning”, a 2002 white Volkswagen Jetta TDI, craps out on the highway only 40 minutes outside of Dekalb.  After over 170,000 miles of flawless service, the engine inexplicably dies at 70mph, and I coast the wounded warrior off the nearest exit ramp as dozens of dash lights flicker red with ominous warning symbols.

Now breaking down is never fun.  But breaking down at 11:30 at night, when it’s 15 degrees outside, over 230 miles from home in Oglesby, Illinois reaches a whole new level of suckitude.  I pop the hood in frustration and root around in vain for a broken fan belt or some other easy explanation, all the while spewing a steady stream of profanity like the furnace fighting Old Man in “A Christmas Story”.

Luckily, Officer Knoblauch of the Oglesby Town Police pulls up behind me a few minutes later.  He follows me with the flashers on while I push the car into a secluded side street, and offers a ride to a nearby Best Western in the back seat of his cruiser.  The next day I’m forced to return to St. Louis unceremoniously – behind the wheel of a rumbling UHaul truck, the Jetta dejectedly chained to a trailer in tow.   The “Hard Way” indeed.

Fortunately, I’ll be boarding a plane for my final two games of the season – a doubleheader in the frigid north country of Michigan.  And with any luck, White Lightning will be back in action next year, with another 170,000 miles of faithful service left in her…

Huskie Stadium Wide

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