Oct. 8, 2005 was a nightmare. One of the worst Saturdays I’ve experienced at Penn State.
I was a freshman living in East Halls with a guy who was a total stranger a month earlier. A fellow football fan, he suggested we camp out for the Ohio State game.
After years of embarrassing seasons for Penn State, the magic of Williams, Butler, King and Norwood had breathed life back into Beaver Stadium.
Shirts reading “We’re Back” filled the windows of downtown stores. I sported mine to Wal-Mart as we picked up a tent big enough for a few other friends and all of our excitement.
The plan was to go Wednesday or Thursday, but rumor had it that students were moving in Sunday evening.
Paternoville was born.
Outside the Beaver Stadium gate, the cold concrete became the hottest party in town. Each night, trashcans became a part of a drumline. Grills became the centerpiece for s’mores, and everyone had football on the brain.
But that’s the story everyone’s heard.
The problem with the hottest party in town was that it never ended. For five or six days, we were surrounded by non-stop shouting, singing and drumming. Some campers were drinking to the point of getting sick. It was freezing cold at night, and skies opened up on our last night.
The entire night Friday was spent packing up our campsite in the rain, and we had to get in line first thing in the morning. We stood there all morning and afternoon for the evening game.
By kickoff, we were exhausted. Our legs hurt, we were working on no sleep, and it was really, really loud.
So loud, in fact, that the ’05 Buckeyes couldn’t hear a thing.
For the rest of my life, I’ll never forget seeing No. 91, Tamba Hali, come around the corner and literally knock the Ohio State QB end over end. I’ll never forget those in the first few rows – total strangers on Sunday, neighbors by the week’s end – and how we all embraced each other after Hali’s forced fumble. I’ll never forget shouting “I smell roses” after the game (The Rose Bowl was the national championship game that year, and Michigan hadn’t happened yet).
I likely would have never forgotten the afterparty throughout town that night as well, but I went home to sleep. Keep in mind: I hadn’t slept in a week.
Through my East Halls window, sounds of the Blue Band and ESPN highlights could be heard.
Oct. 8, 2005 was the greatest Saturday I’ve experienced at Penn State.
How much do you miss 2005?
