The First Saturday Without Football

I wake up, startled by the sound of my phone’s alarm that I luckily remembered to set the night before. It’s barely seven in the morning.

My head pounds and I start to question if staying up until 2 a.m. was really necessary, knowing that I had plans to wake up so early. Even though my body will hate me later for depriving it of sleep, I get out of bed nonetheless and trade the feelings of guilt in for excitement. I’ll just have to suck it up; it’s game day.

I start the Keurig and pour myself a much-needed glass of water as I wait for my roommate, Julia, to wake up, too. Over the past few years, she’s accepted that early mornings are an essential part of the gameday ritual, as is the 45 minute walk to the RV tailgating fields. I’m not convinced that either of these things are a “normal” or actually “essential” part of the Penn State football experience, but it has become entirely commonplace in my family.

We start to get ready, and give ourselves a pat on the back for cropping our t-shirts ahead of time. I’m not sure whether I’m half asleep or still half drunk from the night before at this point, but straightening my hair feels more tedious than ever and the Nittany Lion tattoo I’ve positioned on my cheek is definitely crooked. If my older brother, Collin, and his friends have crashed at our apartment, chances are they’re cracking open a beer to go along with their coffee.

It’s surprisingly quiet as we leave the apartment and walk through the side streets and alleys in downtown State College. There’s a sense of calmness, and until we cross onto one of the main roads, you’d hardly believe that it was game day at all. Older couples and families comprise a line outside of Waffle Shop, and chant songs are playing outside of the stores on College Ave.

My dad texts me and asks what is taking us so long - something that he often does from the moment we wake up until the moment we finally arrive at where his RV is parked for the weekend. It’s no surprise that the location he has sent me is an estimated 52 minute walk, and I brace myself to trek uphill through campus to reach it.

We pass the row of food trucks that have yet to start setting up and reach Beaver Stadium, knowing that we can't be far from the RV fields lot by now. The smell of breakfast sandwiches and other grilled foods wafts through the air as we walk by designated sections for car tailgating. Young kids throw football across the parking lot and I think back to my own childhood memories of coming to games in my grammy's mini-van.

Among a sea of Penn State flags flying proudly in the tailgating fields, I spot a camo Busch Light one: our destination is close. Our group is greeted by our two labs and my younger sisters, who all run up to us in excitement. Partially winded from our long journey, I take a minute or two to relax: we'll be in this spot for hours to come.

My step-mom sets out an egg casserole, along with a variety of muffins and breakfast pastries. I’ve learned from past experiences to steer clear of mixed drinks for these day-long occasions, and reach for a beer or seltzer instead. My dad connects his iPad bluetooth to the speakers, and we already know that we’ll be hearing a medley of classic rock and country music.

And just like that, all the festivities ensue.

We bring out a spare folding table for flip cup. I bully everyone into agreeing that this game is superior to beer pong, and most likely point out how I expect to excel in every round. We haphazardly toss around a hammer during a game of stump. We pull out bottles of God-knows-what from the RV’s small liquor cabinet. We watch other friends and friends of friends pass by the tailgate for a drink or two. If my cousin Morgan has made her infamously strong Jell-O shots, we feel our throats burning of cheap vodka. We break out the hot dogs and count how many people want cheese on their burgers. And often times, we scrap the previously curated playlist and take requests for any and every rap song - most certainly traumatizing my 11-year-old sisters, but not giving much thought to it anyway.

Game time nears and I realize that I’d much rather stay at the tailgate. Julia, a dedicated Penn State and overall football fan, is much smarter than I am and starts the journey toward the stadium. My ticket goes to waste with each time I choose to stay back, and I fail to realize that I will only have so many opportunities to take in the chaos and energy that is the PSU student section.

This Saturday morning, I sit comfortably on my couch. There’s no need to walk to the other side of campus and, in fact, there’s no motivation to get up from this spot to do anything at all.

Since moving back to State College a few weeks ago, so many experiences have been different from ones that I’ve enjoyed in the past. While we’ve been able to see small groups of friends and socialize in a ~modified~ bar atmosphere, the hardest adjustment is undoubtedly losing football Saturdays.

I’m probably the farthest thing away from a sports enthusiast, but it’s still disappointing to be robbed of the last year’s worth of memories like the ones I’ve described. I have (hopefully) the rest of my life to look forward to Penn State tailgating thanks to my family’s season tickets and devotion to the program, but now I sadly reflect on waiting in line, being tossed in the air by random strangers for touchdowns or singing the alma mater.

I would give just about anything right now to be passing around a germ-infested bottle of American Honey or to even be packed like sardines into a crowded set of bleachers. But who knows, maybe there is actually some potential for a later season (??) and chance to enjoy similar moments like these in the future … even if I have to spend it as an alum and crash on my younger sister’s couch (thanks in advance, Paige).