Staff Picks: What We Miss Most About Beaver Stadium
Another weekend has passed by in Happy Valley, along with another Saturday without going into Beaver Stadium.
It’s hard to not reminisce over the times spent at home football games while Penn State plays in a mostly empty Beaver Stadium. To think back to the good ol’ days, our staffers offered their thoughts on what they miss the most about the Beaver Stadium experience.
Frankie Marzano: Losing Cell Service In Beaver Stadium
There’s nothing like the rush of adrenaline you get when you’re trying to find your friends at Gate A with no cell phone service. Once you’re in the stands, having no access to Snapchat or Instagram actually feels good. It forces you to pay attention to what’s in front of you, and that’s Penn State football.
Needing to rely on the PA announcer for score updates in other games and keeping your phone in your pocket feels old school. It’s the best way to enjoy the fun with your friends.
Dana Nunemacher: My Family
Every fall Friday since middle school, I have always had such a rush of excitement knowing that a Penn State football weekend meant a family weekend.
Just like Coach Franklin believes, family is everything. It was never about the football game itself. It was waking up at the crack of dawn to drive to the stadium with my parents. It was about learning everything I know about football from my aunt (and even learning from her that I would be a big cousin at the very first Stripe Out in 2015).
It was about being able to sing the Alma Mater with my cousins at the end of every game, knowing one day I would reach their alumni status too. I could go on about the memories Penn State has given me.
Conor Donohue: The Bleachers
I don’t know why I’m nostalgic about a type of seat, but I am. I remember, especially back in my freshman year, jumping in absolute chaos to celebrate a touchdown and just falling straight off the bleacher into the person in front of me. Were they ever mad? No, because they get it! The bleachers, let’s be honest, aren’t the safest thing in the world.
It brings back memories of a time of no social distancing, no coronavirus. You’d be shoulder-to-shoulder with kids you don’t even know, and by the end of the game, you’d have your arm around each other yelling the Alma Mater. It all stems from the bond that those shaky, half-broken, kinda dangerous bleachers allow people to have.
Michael Tauriello: Disappointed Fans In The Stands
Let’s be real, folks. This season’s been a rough one so far. With a rough season comes fans in a foul mood! Being at the game on Saturday made me miss the authenticity of the atmosphere.
The fake crowd noise would be beneficial in an environment with a competitive game, but hearing the crowd cheer at full volume out of the loudspeaker after a Maryland penalty while Penn State trailed 35-7 just felt wrong. I want to see angry fans. I want to share the pain with others!
Everyone simultaneously feeling the pain of a bad loss, while a sad thought on the surface, is actually rather comforting. I miss it, but I can’t wait for the day that the loud atmosphere returns to Beaver Stadium.
Alysa Rubin: Walking (Or Running) Through Gate A
Picking one thing to miss about football is definitely pretty hard. If I had to pick one thing, I’d have to say I miss walking (and/or running) into Beaver Stadium on gamedays the most.
Some days, I’d walk to my seat with my friends, while for other games I’d sprint to the student section as fast as I could. The adrenaline of getting into the stadium, hearing all of the fans talking and the music pumping, and smelling the chicken baskets and tailgates is something I’m looking forward to getting to experience again, hopefully, sooner rather than later.
Matt DiSanto: The Urinal Troughs
Am I right, fellas? You know what I’m talking about. Nothing beats the fear-inducing anxiety of using a Beaver Stadium urinal trough after a long day of tailgating.
There’s something nice about that communal experience. Dozens of Penn State fans crowded in one room, all working toward the same task without saying even a single word to one another outside of a modest head nod. That’s poetry, baby!
And while I’m a little gun-shy and prefer the quiet solitude of a stall, there’s simply nothing like a Beaver Stadium urinal trough.
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