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

January 25, 2014 / Pigskin Pursuit / 0 Comments

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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…

Full Clickthrough Gallery Below:

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LSU vs Texas A&M – Johnny Football swamped in Death Valley…

January 23, 2014 / Pigskin Pursuit / 0 Comments

People often ask me about the best college football destination in the country. I’m usually reticent to answer because there are so many variables to that question, and, depending on the circumstances, there are a handful of places across the country that could be considered the “best” on any given week. Invariably, however, I always list LSU as one of the most sublime places in the country to spend a college football Saturday. Having caught a few games here before, I can personally attest that between the Cajun food, ample drink, authentic hospitality, a rabid fan base, ear splitting 93,000 seat stadium and smash mouth SEC football, LSU is one of the premiere destinations in the land.

So when my friend, and Texas A&M ring bearing alumni, Federico texted me over the summer about the November 23rd matchup in Baton Rouge, I immediately circled my calendar. While he had done the circuit of Big 12 destinations back in the Aggies long forgotten past, with their move to the SEC conference came a whole new list of road destinations for him to experience. Appropriately, LSU was at the top of that list.

I fly in to New Orleans early on Friday morning to give myself a day of exploration in the city. Despite the breadth of my travels, I had never actually visited NOLA before. While the allure of the infamous French Quarter and a few giant Hurricane drinks has a certain croc wearing, touristy appeal, I opt to spend the day a bit more tastefully. I pull into the National WWII Museum on Magazine Street as the doors are opening for the day, and shell out eight dollars for parking. An avid WWII history buff, I’ve traveled to sites of historical significance all over the world, but this museum in New Orleans is reputed to be among the best.

It costs me $32 for an all access pass for the day, which grants admittance to all the features spread throughout the several buildings on campus. Up first is the 4D movie “Beyond all Boundaries”, a 40 minute historical overview of both the European and Pacific campaigns that was produced and narrated by Tom Hanks. As the film plays on the screen, guard towers and gun turrets rise out of the stage, and later smoke fills the entire theater as a bomber fuselage is lowered from the ceiling as part of the “4D” effects. I spend the rest of the afternoon casually wandering the extensive displays and historical artifacts spread throughout the galleries. In addition to some of the smaller pieces, the museum boasts an impressive collection of recovered machinery. In the US Freedom Pavilion alone, a Sherman tank sits proudly on the floor while a collection of old warbirds hang from the ceiling; including a B-17 Flying Fortress, B-25 Mitchell and the seductive, sweeping lines of a P-51 Mustang, among others.

I break only for lunch, and take a quick stroll down the street to Cochon Butcher – a casual lunch offshoot of the infamous Cochon Restaurant. Translated literally “Cochon” means “Pig” and, accordingly, the small café features a bevy of house made charcuterie offerings available plain, or stacked into well crafted sandwiches. Naturally, I opt for both; the ever popular pork belly sandwich and a personal charcuterie sample platter. The rich belly sandwich is served with mint and cucumber, the crisp flavors offsetting the unctuous, fat laced pork into a perfect balance. The charcuterie sampler features a range of their daily specials, neatly arranged on a wooden tray: duck liver mousse, country terrine, soprasseta, duck pastrami and coppa di testa. It’s a carnivores dream come true.

After my WWII touring is done for the afternoon, I brave the rush hour traffic in New Orleans to pick Federico up at the airport, as a log jam of cars flows out of the terminal. From there, we hustle west an hour along I-10 and pull into the overstuffed parking lot of Mike Andersons in Baton Rouge. Evidently, we aren’t the only ones with the same idea, as the Cajun seafood joint is jammed for the big game, and it’s an hour and a half wait for a table and oyster po’boy. The A&M faithful have come out in droves, and when the Aggie War Hymn pipes in over the loudspeakers, more than half the restaurant collectively rises to their feet, locking arms and swaying while they confidently belt out the chorus. From there, we enjoy a few nightcaps at The Chimes pub on the outskirts of the LSU campus, edging past a few collar popped frat boys squabbling on the sidewalk. I work my way through a handful of the flowing Chimes taps, opting for a selection of the local Abita seasonal brews while Federico samples from their equally impressive whiskey selection.

As the gameday morning rises, the weather turns foul and an ominous mist hangs in the sky like smoke. We slip into some free parking on Lake Shore Drive, and shuffle over to campus, passing by Mike the Tiger’s plush habitat as hordes of onlookers try to snap a photo of the LSU mascot. It’s there that we meet up with my friend Mandy, the same host from my visit back in 2010 and a die hard LSU fan. Soon after we shake hands, we’re corralled onto the median of the street as the crowd parts for the LSU player walk (which like every other SEC school, LSU claims to have invented). Blue lights flash and police sirens whale away as two busses pull up, the doors swaying open as the crowd roars. Head coach Les Miles steps off first with a police escort, followed by two single file lines of players from each bus – offensive players on the right, defensive players on the left. Garbed in neat coat and ties, the players walk purposefully towards the stadium but stop for the occasional high five and handshake with kids. The famed, and highly talented, LSU Golden Girl squad follows after the players. Teeth chattering as they promenade, their scantily cut leotards do little to allay the drizzle.

Following the player procession, we meet up with Mandy’s aunt Karen, host of the infamous Van Geaux tailgating rig. If there is such a thing as professional tailgating, Karen would rank among the best, and she welcomes us with the same gracious hospitality I enjoyed back in 2010. Their converted DHL truck overflows with provisions, and I make several raids on an overflowing tray of incredible home made tamales. Soon, the weather grows angry, and ask the sky turns fowl and we’re forced to find shelter and take refuge under a bus shelter as an afternoon of blissful LSU tailgating is ruined.

We file into Tiger Stadium early to escape the deluge, huddling into the crowded concrete concourse as it’s mobbed by thousands of others retreating from the rain. Fed buys a flimsy plastic poncho for $8, and I hunt down the boudin vendor for a tube of the Cajun meat delicacy. It’s a safe bet that Tiger Stadium is the only college football stadium in the country that offers fresh boudin and jumbalaya among its food vendors. Waiting until only a few minutes before kickoff, we finally emerge from the tunnel and are blasted by an icy wind that whips the drizzle in sideways. Fed’s cheap poncho is immediately tattered, revealing his crimson Aggie shirt to bare in a sea of purple and yellow slickers – Louisiana natives all better prepared for the elements. As the ball slides out of receivers hands during the final minutes of warmup, the greasy weather portends a miserable afternoon. Fed and I shiver in the mist, an unseasonably cold fall afternoon in the giant belly of Death Valley.

True to form, the game proves a tough one for the visiting Aggies. Already nursing a hand injury, electric Aggie quarterback Johnny Manziel is stifled by the misty weather. He sails errant passes over the heads of his receivers, the ball fluttering in the mist as he completes only 16 of 41 attempts. On the ground his feet slip on the grime, failing the normally surefooted and elusive captain, and he is stuffed into the turf repeatedly by the dogged LSU pass rush. It’s one of the worst performances in the Heisman winner’s short two year career, as he tosses two interceptions against only 224 yards, and the imposing confines of Tiger Stadium lay claim to yet another victim.

The LSU offense proves better built for the elements. Pounding the ball on the ground relentlessly, the Tigers amass 324 yards of rushing offense. Senior running back Terrence Magee chews up 149 yards alone, averaging over 11 yards per carry as he streaks through the porous Aggie defense. Quarterback Zac Mettenberger plays a serviceable, mistake free game – flipping short passes to his receivers who break free of the flimsy Aggie arm tackles for extra yards. In the end, LSU walks away with a confident 34-10 victory, eliminating any last hope for a Johnny Manziel appearance in a BCS bowl game.

Thank you to Mandy and Karen for their always gracious hospitality and incredible setup! Hope to see y’all again next year, and folks like you are the reason LSU is such a special place!!!

Special thanks to my friend Federico for making the trip down to Baton Rouge. Can’t wait to hit another game with you next year man!

Full Clickthrough Gallery Below:

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Toledo vs Northern Illinois – Rockets Grounded by the Huskies…

January 22, 2014 / Pigskin Pursuit / 0 Comments

In between my evening MAC doubleheaders in late November, I had an afternoon to kill in Columbus and looked for a few cultural diversions to keep me out of trouble. With BBQ in central Ohio out of the question, the most obvious choice was exploring a few of my other favorite things: meatballs and booze.

As faithful readers of the blog already know, I am a purveyor of the finer things in life and you’ve heard my familiar schtick about the greatness of barbecue, chocolate shakes and burgers. Predictably, I also happen to be a connoisseur of meatballs too, and I appreciate the subtle artistic nuance of a perfect meat sphere. I’ve eaten them across this great country of ours, including handfuls of them at the infamous Meatball Shop in New York City.

With those credentials out of the way, allow me to introduce you to perhaps the greatest meatball on the planet: Marcella’s. While it’s a tad more upscale than my typical haunts, Marcella’s Italian Kitchen in Columbus dishes out the meatball of the gods. About the size of a regulation softball, a single meatball is a sizeable portion on its own. The behemoth is served in its own cast iron pot, and arrives garnished with parmesan cheese. One bite and you know you’ve gotten into something transcendent. The ball is incredibly light and fluffy, almost spongy in texture and yields easily with a fork. Well spiced with Italian seasoning and grated cheese folded in, the ball arrives slathered in a thick red tomato sauce. This is the holy grail of meatballs. You will, quite simply, never surpass this; you can only hope to find its equal.

Following the epic meatball, it’s time for a little post lunch digestif. Fortunately, as the national explosion of micro distilleries swells, two such places have opened up within the city limits of Columbus: Middle West Spirits and Watershed Distillery. I make a visit to Middle West first, tapping on the door until one of the distillers answers and happily gives me an impromptu tour. These smaller operations are a far cry from the pristinely manicured grounds and professional tours that I had earlier this fall in Kentucky bourbon country, and getting a personal tour is a warm touch. He proudly shows off the gleaming copper Kothe still. Custom ordered from Germany, it features more knobs, dials and windows than a Virginia class submarine. The strong aroma of fermenting mash permeates the humid air in the warehouse, accented by the sweet, intoxicating scent of oak and bourbon. While they make an array of award winning vodkas, I opt for a few small samples of their equally esteemed wheat whiskey and reserve bourbon, both crafted from locally sourced Ohio grains. Naturally, I pick up a jet black bottle of the OYO Reserve Bourbon before heading out the door.

Following Middle West Spirits, I head to the other upstart in town, Watershed Distillery. Things are a bit more formal here, and the counter girl insists on the $10 fee for a tour despite the place being empty. I decline the tour, but fork over five bucks for a couple of tastings of their different spirits – vodka, gin and bourbon. The bourbon barrel aged Gin is a refreshingly unique departure from the norm, and if you’re a gin fan it would be worth a try. A staunch traditionalist, however, I ultimately pick up a bottle of their traditional oak aged bourbon. Between the Watershed and Middle West bourbons, I’ll be returning home with a nice haul of craft spirits.

From there, I brave the two hour drive to Toledo over the flat expanse of northern Ohio. Occupying the west bank of Lake Erie, and located only sixty miles from Detroit, Toledo has an overwhelmingly industrial feel. Cranes and smokestacks jut into the skyline, and the rusting dreck of factories and bridges dominate the landscape. I make a brief stop at Tony Packo’s Cafe, a Hungarian hot dog house considered an institution in Toledo since 1932. I order up a combo plate of their signature chili dog and stuffed cabbage, admiring the eccentric collection of signed hot dog buns adorning the walls. Comfort food served on red and white checkered table cloths never tires in my book, and after a quick meal I head towards the University of Toledo.

The lights of the Glass Bowl beckon, and after easing into a five dollar parking space, I head towards one of the more unique stadiums in college football. Named after the city of Toledo’s prominence in the glass manufacturing industry, the Glass Bowl was constructed in 1936. The stadium features impressive traditional stonework, craftsmanship which has been deftly preserved throughout several modern upgrades over the years. Two stone towers on the south end pierce high into the night sky. Like medieval ramparts they stand in stoic contrast to the blaring, garish jumbotron pumping out ads for the local tire warehouse. A blend of the old and the new, the Glass Bowl is one of the finer venues in the sport – architecturally speaking.

I pass by a few revelers as they spill out of a converted party ambulance, the lights flashing above while they clutch red solo cups. Aside from them, however, the lots are pretty quiet on a chilly Wednesday night. A 25 foot blue and yellow rocket sits perched on a stand outside the Northeast entrance to the Glass Bowl. Bought in 1961 from the U.S. Army missile program, the one ton projectile points directly towards the fifty yard line of arch nemesis Bowling Green State’s Doyt Perry Stadium.

I pick up a $35 face value ticket for 20 bucks from an old lady pawning a single after her nephew elected to stay home on a brisk night. As the game kicks off, the Rockets take the field garbed in garish pink and blue uniforms – an admirable salute to breast cancer awareness, but a trend that I find thoroughly tired at this point. But they play spirited football for the first half, holding the explosive Northern Illinois onslaught to a single touchdown and carry a 10-7 lead into the locker rooms at halftime.

The second half would ground the Rockets, however, as the Huskies make a few halftime adjustments – most of which consist of letting Jordan Lynch run wild with the offense. Lynch, the outside Heisman hopeful, explodes for three rushing touchdowns in the second half and the rout is on. Racking up 160 yards on the ground and another 200 through the air in the process, Lynch would pad his already impressive season statistics and his case for the bronze trophy. The Huskies would eventually roll to a 35-17 win, improving their unblemished record to 11-0 and an outside shot at a BCS Bowl bid still possible. Rocket fans start filing solemnly out of the Glass Bowl with a few ticks remaining in the fourth quarter. Per my usual, I hold on until the final whistle, admiring the fine stonework of the historic venue for a few extra minutes.

Special thanks to my friend Becky for her hospitality in Columbus, and agreeing to my finicky meatball requirements…can’t wait to catch you at an Irish game next fall!

Full Clickthrough gallery below:

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Ohio vs Kent State – Bobcats thrashed by the Golden Flashes…

January 21, 2014 / Pigskin Pursuit / 0 Comments

During my travels I’ve generally made a point to visit to some of the biggest venues in the colorful world of college football. Understandably, I tend to focus my exploits on the major conferences and stalwart institutions that make the sport a national treasure. However, as I press further into the depths of the sport, and constantly seek new adventures and venues to investigate, the Middle American Conference had eluded any of my travels thus far. With the conference beginning mid week play in November, this made for the perfect opportunity to sample a few MAC games with my weekends already booked at larger venues. A quick glance at the schedule revealed Ohio University and Toledo playing on consecutive Tuesday and Wednesday nights, and I decided to launch my inaugural MAC doubleheader from Columbus.

Touching down in the Capitol city, the crown jewel of Ohio, I bee line for the newly opened Melt Bar and Grilled location in the upscale Short North area. Since opening its first location in Lakewood, OH in 2006, Melt has fast become a sensation in Ohio, even garnering considerable national exposure. Specializing in massive, indulgent grilled cheese sandwiches with dozens of combinations, the decadent menu is the very definition of comfort food. As if the alluring fare weren’t enough, the bar features over twenty different taps of local beer, and the menu boasts 150 different varieties of bottled swill for the hopheads.

While deliberating over the various heart stopping choices, I finally settle on a “Dude Abides” sandwich, chosen exclusively for the Big Lebowski movie reference. After an agonizing forty minute wait (the location is new and still had a few kitchen kinks to work out), the massive offering is dropped in front of me. Thick slabs of toasted white bread are layered with home made meatballs, fried mozzarella wedges and layers of Provolone and Romano cheeses. The hefty sandwich stands nearly six inches tall, and after a disastrous attempt at picking the creature up, the hand to hand melee soon devolves into a gooey, depraved, fork and knife conquest. Face smeared in marinara and gluttonous shame, I slink off the barstool and waddle out the door…

From there, it’s an hour ride down winding US33 into Athens, Ohio. The drive is surprisingly picturesque, as the undulating road winds through hilly state park and national forest land. Athens seems like quite a pleasant village, cozy streets are flanked by shops, restaurants, and the usual assortment of college town watering holes. Every Halloween, the place explodes, as the small town nearly doubles in size with nearly 20,000 visitors for the Athens Halloween Block Party. Obviously, Ohio University is the mainstay in town, and the well manicured campus grounds are flanked by classic Georgian brick architecture across sprawling quads. It seems like quite an agreeable place to spend four or five years…

As I approach Peden Stadium, I’m reluctantly forced to shell out five bucks for parking. The entire area surrounding the stadium Ohio University campus, and they’ve got all the lots on lock down. A few big shot donors enjoy a tailgate right outside the main entrance to Peden, their set up complete with a custom bright green Ohio Bobcats tent. Apart from them, however, the closest lots are mostly empty on a chilly Tuesday night.

I make up for the five dollar parking ripoff by securing a free game ticket. As I approach the ticket window for one of the fifteen dollar seats, a gentleman taps me on the shoulder and hands me a freebie on the 40 yard line – row 3. I’m starting to like the MAC already.

Shortly after I find my seat, the game kicks off as the mercury drops into the low 20’s. While cold games during a sunny afternoon can still be quiet tolerable, at night they are sheer misery, and a constant battle to keep warm. Despite the cold, the Bobcats come out competitively in the first half. Quarterback Tyler Tettleton connects for the Cats’sole touchdown, and they head into the tunnels at halftime trailing 17-13. I head into the tunnels myself for a piping Styrofoam cup of hot chocolate.

In the second half, however, the Kent State Golden Flashes take command. In one of the stranger plays I’ve seen this year, 260lb. Flash defensive lineman Nate Terhune takes a direct snap on a 4^th down and 4 and rumbles 61 yards for a touchdown. Visibly wheezing in the endzone after the lumbering run, it’s the longest play from scrimmage the entire night. The Golden Flashes would tack on a few more touchdowns in the second half, and run away with a 44-13 blowout win.

Before I leave, I snap a quick photo with Rufus the Bobcat mascot. While I don’t usually make a point of getting mascot photos, Rufus became a national sensation in 2010 when he relentlessly pursued and wrestled Brutus the Buckeye to the ground during a tilt against the Ohio State Buckeyes (VIDEO). That he did this during the Buckeyes revered pre game entrance in front of 105,000 people, immediately made the story a front page scandal. Brandon Hanning, the student inside the Bobcat costume at the time (since excused from the school), premeditated the entire fracas and made no bones his vitriol towards Brutus in this interview (LINK). As a fan of any mascot altercation, I simply had to get a photo with one of the best brawlers in the biz.

In the end, my first MAC conference game was an interesting diversion from the usual lineup of heavy hitting premier programs. To be clear, the atmosphere is a far cry from a typical Big 10 game, and drawing a comparison to those types of programs would simply be unfair. If I had to put my finger on it, a MAC conference game has a similar feel to a minor league baseball game – in a good way. The stadiums are smaller, family friendly and more accessible, with easy parking and almost zero traffic congestion. Tickets are cheaper and plentiful, and you can generally sit wherever you prefer. The entire atmosphere is noticeably more relaxed, although fans are still passionate and prideful about their chosen school. The game itself is slower and less precise than the big time schools, but that’s exactly the appeal. The vast majority of players are here simply for the love of the game, and suit up knowing that few of them will ever play on Sundays. Absent is the semi-professional machinery that comes with seven figure coaches and bloated TV contracts. It’s here, in conferences like the MAC, where the true amateurism and mission of college athletics is still alive and well. And I’ll be back for more…