The Places to Watch College Football

By CHRIS DUFRESNE

Sept. 20, 1996 12 AM PT

TIMES STAFF WRITER

On game days in Nebraska, sold-out Memorial Stadium, capacity 72,700, becomes the third-largest city in the state.

It has been sold out a record 209 consecutive games.

The devoted drive from as far away as Scottsbluff, 409 miles west, clad in red, eyes fixed ahead as they count down the seconds until kickoff.

The joke in Lincoln is you could fire a cannon down main street during a Nebraska game and not hurt a soul.

Should a beloved Cornhusker hail from an outpost such as Wahoo or Wood River, it is not uncommon for Sheriff Taylor and Deputy Fife to lock up shop and lead the car caravan to Lincoln.

At Barry’s Bar and Grill, two blocks from the stadium on the corner of Ninth Street and Q, the doors open at 10 a.m. and the premixed Bloody Marys start flowing out of 20-gallon containers.

Or, you might try a Nebraskan specialty, tomato juice and beer.

An hour before kickoff, a red swell of humanity moves en masse toward football heaven, although the traffic cops would tell you it’s pretty much hell.

“We lived in Chicago when the Bears won the Super Bowl,” says Lou Mary Webb, co-owner of Barry’s. “They shut down the schools. But still, it’s not the same. I don’t know if it’s college ball compared to the pros. It’s real hard to even describe to someone else. You can feel the charge inside the stadium. It’s something you can feel.”

There is nothing quite like Saturdays in the fall in a college town, where rite and ritual rule and reality is suspended.

At South Bend, Ind., thousands of Notre Dame fans, known as the subway alumni, loiter outside Notre Dame Stadium with absolutely no chance of getting a ticket. They come simply to smell Notre Dame football.

“There is nothing like that day, on any campus,” says Mark Irving, Notre Dame trainer from 1982 to ’86 and now assistant regional director of development for Notre Dame in Southern California.

At Clemson, players rub “Howard’s rock” before running down to the field to thunderous ovations.

At Colorado, Ralphie III, a live buffalo, runs roughshod and tethered around Folsom Field before kickoff, a calamity waiting to happen.

At Knoxville this Saturday, Tennessee will try to shatter Michigan’s all-time official single-game attendance mark of 106,867.

These things are important in college towns. It cost $14 million to add 10,583 seats to the North Upper Deck at Neyland Stadium, but, dad-gum, it’ll be worth every penny if the second-ranked Volunteers can set the record in rapturous victory over No. 4 Florida.

Each college town is special. Each has its own stories, rituals, routines, quirks.

Trying to rate the best places to absorb a college game is folly, but why not take a stab at it?

After a survey of national college football writers, here are the most frequently mentioned “best” places to take in a college football game.

These are in no particular order, except for Notre Dame, which was the runaway winner.

NOTRE DAME

The cradle of tailgate civilization, a religious experience for Catholics; just a hoot for everyone else.

Routine: The RVs begin rolling into South Bend on Thursday. The band starts playing on campus Friday afternoon, leading up to the jam-packed pep rally at the Joyce Center. You won’t find a seat.

Coach Lou Holtz gives a rousing speech, the fight song plays and the players march off to Moreau Seminary for a good night’s sleep.

Next day, you pay homage to the statues of Father “Fair Catch” Corby, “We’re No. 1” Moses--left hand grasping two stone tablets, right hand extended heavenward--near the Theodore M. Hesburgh Library, and the mural, “Touchdown Jesus,” on the south wall of the library.

Then, time for a bratwurst, maybe a little game of catch, then a walk to the Grotto, where various folks pray for various causes. Two and a half hours before kickoff, the Notre Dame band, fully dressed, performs on the steps of the main building and marches down to the stadium.

In the Joyce Center, alumni can view the video “Wake Up the Echoes,” a tear-jerking documentary on Notre Dame football.

Inside the stadium, the students stand for the entire game. Although the stadium is undergoing reconstruction this season, the sight lines are terrific.

If it’s fall, and the leaves are turning, and Notre Dame is winning, you set it to music.

NEBRASKA

Fans are known to be among the friendliest, most rabid and most knowledgeable in the country.

Routine: Get to town Friday night, talk strategy at Barry’s. Before the game, pick up a sack lunch to go, maybe a Sloppy Joe, then try not to get trampled.

At the game, try your hand at the school’s sophisticated video scoreboard quizzes. Example: They’ll show a play from a previous Nebraska game and ask you to identify the formation. “Backside Screen?”

No, this isn’t San Diego.

Downtown Lincoln is so close to Memorial Stadium you can sneak out at halftime and have a few belts at Barry’s and be back in your seat before the third-quarter kickoff.

When Nebraska wins, which has been the last 30 times at home, the postgame celebrations last beyond midnight. The day they lose, alert local hot-line counselors.

TENNESSEE

By Thursday, you should already be humming “Rocky Top.”

Routine: Get to Knoxville five hours early, go to the Strip on Cumberland Avenue and have a sandwich at Sam and Andy’s or ribs at Calhoun’s Barbecue.

Go to the Tennessee River--Note: You should still be humming “Rocky Top”--and witness the 200-boat-strong Volunteer Navy dock for some waterside tailgating.

Two and half hours before kickoff, get in line to watch the Tennessee players, clad in suits and ties, walk from the football complex down to Neyland Stadium.

Inside, save a private moment for team mascot Smokey VI, a coon hound who went to that dog pound in the sky in 1991. Smokey VI was actually listed on the team’s injury report after suffering heat exhaustion at the UCLA game that year, only to make a triumphant return.

Watch as the current mascot, Smokey VIII, leads the Volunteers out to the field.

Then holler your brains out.

OHIO STATE

Routine: Head to Columbus’ Varsity Club, legendary college pregame hangout. Forget about “kegs and eggs” at Papa Joes this year. It burned down (they’re rebuilding).

Don’t miss a party called “Hiney Gate” at the Holiday Inn, where the Danger Brothers sing oldies and fight songs.

On the way to Ohio Stadium, keep your eyes peeled for a woman known as the “Cake Lady,” who bakes table-sized slabs of cakes for all home games and sells them by the slice.

Inside the stadium, bow along with the band and the student body toward “Neutron Man,” an elderly gentleman who dresses in Ohio State garb and dances the day away.

CLEMSON

Clemson Memorial Stadium becomes the second-largest city in South Carolina on game day.

Routine: A pregame trip to the ESSO Club is a must. It used to be a combination gas-station/watering hole, but they don’t pour gas anymore.

Just before the game, the team boards two buses and drives to the east side of the stadium. Cannons sound, the band plays “Tiger Rag.” The players rub “Howard’s rock” for good luck, then charge down the hill into Death Valley. Why the run? Simply, it used to be the quickest way to the field.

GEORGIA

Open-air press box, the hedges, Uga. It doesn’t get much better than this.

Routine: Take a walk to the Arch, built in 1864, under which freshmen for years were forbidden to cross. The consequences involved some serious hazing.

Hold hands going into Sanford Stadium, singing school fight song, “Glory, Glory,” sung to the tune of “Battle Hymn of the Republic”--with a Southern twist.

Inside, pay respect to the famous English privet hedges that surround the field, then to Uga IV, the late Bulldog mascot who led the team to nine consecutive bowl appearances in the 1980s.

Uga is buried in the end zone.

If Georgia wins (not a good bet these days), run with students and townspeople of Athens to ring the Chapel bell.

TEXAS A&M;

Rice Coach Ken Hatfield says “This is the toughest place I’ve had to coach. The fans are loyal, they don’t leave, or sit down when their team gets behind.”

Routine: Get to College Station Friday night for “Midnight Yell,” a tradition in which the Aggie band parades toward Kyle Field, followed by yell leaders carrying torches and as many as 20,000 students. After victories, yell leaders get tossed in the fish pond. That hasn’t been necessary yet for this year’s 0-2 team.

Inside, witness Texas A&M;’s famous “12th man,” a tradition involving a student body member running down the field on kickoffs recalling the spirit of the original 12th man, E. King Gill. In a 1922 game, Gill rushed down from the press box to help his injury-plagued team. He borrowed an injured player’s uniform, changed under the bleachers, and was ready if needed. He wasn’t needed.

WASHINGTON

On a clear day in Seattle, you can see forever. On a bad day, bring your slickers and an umbrella.

Routine: You might want to boat in and tailgate on Union Bay, break fresh Alaskan king crab with friends, then watch a game in the first outdoor stadium to use artificial turf.

Inside: On cloudless football days--you can count them on one hand--witness breathtaking views of Seattle skyline, Lake Washington and Mt. Rainier. Game-day noise levels have registered at 135 decibels.

Husky fans also take credit for forming the original “Wave” on Oct. 31, 1981.

Don’t hold it against them.

ARMY

A star-spangled, John Philip Sousa experience at West Point, N.Y.

Routine: Take a morning walk along a path that winds high above the Hudson River, smell the crisp, clean air and revel in fall’s changing hues. The pregame parade of Cadets will get your blood pumping. Stay too long and you’re liable to volunteer for induction.

WISCONSIN

Anyone for a bratwurst and beer?

Routine: Plan your trip to Madison for homecoming, when graduating law students participate in the “Cane ceremony.” Watch them try to hook their canes on the crossbar. Tradition holds that a hook guarantees victory in their first case. A shank means a loss.

Stick around for Wisconsin’s famous “Fifth Quarter,” during which fans, win or lose, remain in Camp Randall and swoon to traditional favorites such as “On Wisconsin” and, yes, the “Bud song.”

LOUISIANA STATE

Baton Rouge, home of boiled shrimp and Mike the tiger.

Routine: Drop your tailgate, put a cochon de lait (roast pig) on the spit and start trying out the half-dozen types of earplugs you purchased on the way in.

Before the game, go see Mike, the caged Bengal tiger parked in front of the opponents’ locker room. Years ago, pranksters set Mike free before a Tulane game, and he swatted down several small pine trees before being subdued with a tranquilizer gun.

Loud? In the famous “Night the Tigers Moved the Earth” game of 1988, the vibrations were so thunderous in Tiger Stadium after LSU scored a game-winning touchdown against Auburn that the tremor registered on the seismograph in the school’s geology department.

OTHER VENUES OF NOTE

North Carolina (Kenan Stadium)--Football in a forest.

Auburn (Jordan-Hare)--Real grass, students dressed to the nines, no grungers.

Michigan (Michigan)--102,000-plus crowds and maize and blue tortilla chips.

Colorado (Folsom Field)--Ralphie III is going to hurt somebody someday. Really.

Penn State (Beaver)--A trip to Happy Valley is worth the pain getting there.

Harvard (Harvard)--Heady crowd, great “chowda,” every fourth seat occupied by a Kennedy.

Florida (Florida Field)--Known as the “Swamp.” Ask Tennessee about it.

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10 OTHER TOP SPOTS

NEBRASKA: Memorial Stadium * Capacity: 72,700

TENNESSEE: Neyland Stadium * Capacity: 102,485