October 13, 2009
I graduated from Penn State in 2006. I loved it at the time, but a few years of rumination and college loan payments led me to believe that the University was petty, tight-fisted, bureaucratic and stupid. I started to resent my alma mater and the students that attended it. But I became conscious of something as I returned from the Iowa game a few weekends ago. Every time I’ve gone back to Penn State, it’s always been for a football game. And I hate Penn State Football games.
I’ve talked about the awfulness that is Penn State Football before, but I feel compelled to reinforce my argument.
You pay bukoo bucks for a “seat” that takes 40 minutes to get to from the entrance, because they’re trying to jam another 117,999 people into the stadium. Then you’re greeted with a generous 9 inches off butt space to wedge your way into. It’s kind of hard for a scrawny guy like me not to get enveloped in the blubber blanket when the tub of lard alumni to my right, left, front and back take up 2/3rds of my designated space. Then, since it always rains, tepid body steam radiates off of their disgusting poncho-clad bodies. It fogs up my glasses.
You’re so close to everyone you can literally feel people getting ready to fart. And even though we’re in an open space, I can still taste the flecks of cheddar bratwurst in their flatulence wisping about the stadium air. I’d like to vomit, but I can’t, because the line for all 3 bathrooms in Beaver Stadium is 75 yards long and if I leave my seat, I’m sure that some incompetent sophomore usher won’t let me return into the stadium without having to “go around” (whatever the hell that means).
As the beer buzz from 13 hours of mandatory tailgating wears off, I look to the scoreboard and I see, yet again, that Penn State has lost to an unranked team.
Then I start to realize that for all the pomp and circumstance, all the talk about tradition and pride, no one in Happy Valley really gives a crap about whether the football team wins or loses, because they’re going to the bar anyway. They spill out into the night, where corrupt doorman take advantage of drunken people by charging a 5-dollar cover to enter a bar that has no working plumbing. The floor of the Shandygaff is perpetually covered in Miller Lite and pee. $5 dollars a person times an estimated 800 people in a given night and they can’t even fix a goddamned toilet. Where does that money go? They don’t use it to pay taxes; that’s for sure. Instead they use it to bribe health inspectors and police officers, who then turn a blind eye when their bouncers murder students in cold blood.
Don’t believe me. Click here.
I’ve had an epiphany. I don’t hate Penn State. I hate Penn State football. I hate going to the games. I hate going to bars after the games. If you took Penn State Football out of the equation, I’d love the school dearly.