h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

The picture in the newspaper showed an army of tents on the concrete. The caption read:

"'Paternoville' has grown from 11 tents on Sunday night to more than 100 in front of Beaver Stadium's Gate A yesterday."

I had to go.

I had to see it.

Even if I didn't have a snowball's chance in the Amazon of getting a ticket.

I armed myself with my camera, my keys, my "House that Joe Built" shirt and the 27 cents I had in my pocket from yesterday, and set off across campus, swimming in a sea of blue and white.

For the foreigners (or Americans who have been living under a rock for the past 50 years), Paternoville is named for the legendary football coach, Joe Paterno. He's got to be 70-something now, and he's still coaching. I have no idea how much longer he will be, so I'm glad I got to see at least one of his games.

When I reached Beaver Stadium, I just went along with the current of people bearing me toward that hallowed house of gridiron heroes. I relished the smell of brats and other assorted food being cooked on grills larger than my car. I finally managed to find a lull, and stood on the hilltop overlooking the valley.

I don't think I've ever seen as many RVs in my life- the tents, busses, and other vehicles stretched over to the next valley and beyond. I'm pretty sure I saw grill smoke coming from Bald Eagle, on the other side of the next ridge. I stood there for some time, contemplating it all.

Football in Penn State isn't just a game- it isn't even a sport. It's more like a phenomenon- possibly even a religion, if you're careful how you qualify that. People come from hundreds of miles, spend hundreds of dollars, just to watch these people play- and it's magic. I've sat in the stadium, cheered and done the wave. I've felt and heard that moment of breathlessness when the ball is in the air for a long pass as everyone stands, and the explosive cheer that erupts when it falls flawlessly into the receiver's hands.

I never did find that shantytown of tents that was on the front page of the paper. I expect they had already been torn down to make way for the tailgaters. But I did find Paternoville. It stretched from my apartment, to the stadium, to my friends' house where we watched the game.

The Lions under Joe Paterno pulled off a win over the OSU Buckeyes, 17-10. The fans in the stands all through the game cheered and chanted, the refrain echoing throughout the city of State College long after the game was over.

We are
Penn State!

We are
PENN STATE!

WE ARE
PENN STATE!

I enjoyed reading that.

Reminds me of what it used to be like watching Manchester United when I was younger....

The fervant shouts of the crowd, the feeling that you are part of a greater whole, the privalidge of being there, the chants, the scuffles, the ability to be mesmerised by the expierence.

I understand what you mean Scandrea and well put...

"The Lions under Joe Paterno pulled off a win over the OSU Buckeyes, 17-10"

Paaaah.

You're just jealous because we're undefeated and you're not!

Exactly.

Bah! You're all just jelous because the London Monarchs won the World Bowl in their first year!