An Essay by Kevin Grandfield
Originally written November 20, 2010 (postgame)
LINK TO PHOTO SPREAD PRODUCED BY MR. GRANDFIELD
Wrigley Field is a beautiful sports venue. But I never go there. The hometown Chicago Cubs are always a disappointment. So, being a longtime Northwestern fan and new season-ticket holder, I jumped at the chance to go to the Northwestern-Illinois football game in the "Friendly Confines." Yet, the event turned out to be almost as disappointing as a Cubs game. Maybe it was because this Sunday's full moon is a rare type of "blue moon," but the experience was disorienting to the point of infringing on the enjoyment.
The planets began to align against this game as early as last week. When NU quarterback Dan Persa went out for the season with a ruptured Achilles tendon, you could begin to sense that it was not going to be the same NU team playing at Wrigley.
In fact, it almost seemed like the same game – the one we call football - would not be played at Wrigley. At the eleventh hour, the Big Ten ruled that all offensive drives would head toward the west end zone to avoid the dangerous brick wall immediately behind the east end zone (otherwise known as the right-field warning track in summertime). The conference said that the wall was not the required six feet from the end line; event organizers claimed it was two feet. Having seen it myself, I can tell you: The wall was inches away from the back of the end zone in some places. They had the plans drawn up for a year; how could they not see that earlier? But of course, the Big Ten Conference with eleven teams would also be the conference that brought you the 18-inch Stonehenge.
So the teams said all the right things about adjusting, the fans grumbled as their tickets on one 30-yard line turned to tickets on both 70–yard lines, and the game went on as planned.
ESPN even decided to base GameDay here, which was nice but no less disorienting than other things about the event. Normally, the traveling road show would never come to a game between two teams whose seasons had been so bipolar that you couldn't tell whether they were overachieving or underachieving. Both Illinois and Northwestern had first-year quarterbacks and roared off to unexpectedly strong starts (after Illinois's annual defeat at Missouri's hands). Then Illinois's defense went bye-bye for the last two games, and NU learned that it could stay undefeated by only playing the first halves of games.
However, the venue was apparently deemed special enough to trump these shaky teams. Wrigley is a place that draws sellout crowds to see the worst baseball franchise in history, so people would naturally fill it for the novelty of hosting its first college football game since DePaul beat St. Louis here in 1938.
A fair-sized crowd did show up, but it didn’t seem as big as I had been led to expect. El cars were crowded on the ride to the park (one girl said "clown car" as ours unloaded), but everyone got on. There are rush hours when you can't get in the first train that comes. There was a lot more space in the streets around Wrigley and more bars than the none (how’s that for a whopping number?) that exist in the immediate proximity of Ryan Field on the NU campus, so maybe the crowd was dispersed and hidden.
A see-through plastic tent had been set up along the length of Sheffield Avenue behind the right field bleachers, deemed "Wildcat Way." Once inside you were part of an extended python of humans that slithered north, the only direction possible. Halfway up was a beer vendor on one side, and a door leading out on the other side for a restroom break or – if you needed it – a claustrophobia break. All the way at the far end was a stage where the band played and various dignitaries were paraded across.
Obviously, there was a mostly pro-NU crowd on Wildcat Way, but on the streets the fans were fairly evenly mixed, and some were exactly – and literally - mixed. Somebody was selling hats with a purple "N" on one side and an orange "I" on the other, and I saw several of those. One man had a shirt (or had painted on his body, I couldn’t tell) that was half-purple and half-orange. Left to right, it read "Northwestinois."
One thing that was disorienting but welcome was how well the fans got along. Unlike the seething rage of the Iowa and Michigan State fans at home games I attended this year, the Illinois and NU fans merely chanted their own school's cheers. I suppose there are friends from the same high schools in this area who ended up at opposite schools (or even households) with relatives who went to each.
Our season tickets at Ryan Field are right behind a couple who have a daughter in NU's band and a daughter in Illinois's band. The woman in that couple is also Evan Watkins's cousin. Therefore, another disorienting and disappointing thing unique to me was that we would not be able to sit behind her when Evan got his big break.
Instead, we sat in the third-base end zone seats (this was and is the only game where you could describe a seat that way). This was the side where all scoring would occur. We were far up in the second tier of the lower level of seats, so the ceiling above us obscured the scoreboard, but we had a clear view of the field. TV monitors were set up so we could see the broadcast, which was delayed about five seconds. We had mostly NU fans around us, though there were some Illinois fans, and again both sets of people were very civil to each other. However, that just reinforced that this was not as intense a rivalry or as important a game as other contests played in less fantastic venues. It also might be a sign of how little a threat each program is to other programs in the Big Ten. To top it off: After playing for years for the Sweet Sioux Tomahawk, both teams were now playing for the more politically correct "Land of Lincoln Trophy," a bronzed stovepipe hat like the one Lincoln wore.
Then, with the preludes finally over, the game began. Wrigley's locker rooms, especially the visitor's room, are notoriously small, dank and distant, as they wind through many concrete tunnels. I wondered if we should check down there for pods. It was as though NU's defense didn’t even show up. In three plays, Illinois and Chief Leshoure-iwek covered 66 yards to score a touchdown.
On the ensuing possession, Watkins fumbled away the ball on a third-down dropback. NU quarterbacks make a name for themselves in NOT turning over the ball. Persa had one of the lowest numbers of interceptions in the nation before going down last week, as did Mike Kafka last year (before the Outback Bowl game against Auburn). Evan's fumble, therefore, was unusual enough. But then the refs and both teams walked to the other end of the field. That was the first application of the eleventh-hour rule, and a buzz went through the audience trying to figure out what was going on. Because it happened on a turnover first (as opposed to a punt), it only added to the mystery swirling around the old ballyard.
Illinois drove for another touchdown in only six plays and was up 14-0 before we could even get used to the fact that we went to a baseball field and a football game broke out. But wait - Eddie McGee of Illinois thought that NU safety Brian Peters was one of his receivers. The benign McGee, courtesy of a hand-delivered pick-six, gave Peters immortality as the first and last man to score a touchdown in the east right-field end zone at Wrigley.
After Northwestern's "Iron Sieve" defense held enough (or Illinois's offense self-destructed enough) that the Illini only produced a field goal after recovering Adonis Smith's fumble, Mike Trumpy - a stocky, bruising running back - tore 80 yards past the speedy Illinois secondary for a touchdown.
By this point, my head was swirling as much as the lake winds around the park. The two teams traded moments of ineptitude until the score was tied with only a minute to go until the half. But a minute was enough. Illinois marched down through NU’s "Red Sea" defense and got a field goal to re-seize momentum it would never relinquish.
At halftime, I joined many people in walking around the stadium soaking in the atmosphere—or just trying to make sense of it all. Everyone had that look of people pinching themselves to make sure they were not dreaming. The sun had set and the fact that we were now in a lit stadium after watching only one half of football in daylight was also disconcerting, especially for an NU season ticket holder like myself because almost ALL of NU's starts are 11 o'clock kickoffs.
That setting sun also cooled everything off. Most fans had marveled that the weather could be a lot worse on the third Saturday of November in Chicago. It was sunny and mid-40s in the afternoon, but by the middle of the third quarter, when Illinois had the game firmly in hand, the temperatures had dropped significantly and the lake winds were fierce. Our seats were in a middle tier that sloped away from the field and had a roof over our heads supporting the upper deck. It acted like an air spoiler on the back of a car and channeled the wind through our section. I'd put the wind chill in the teens. The crowd began to thin visibly by the start of the fourth quarter.
The game and event limped to their conclusion, and all of the expectations for the possibilities of the game had turned into realities that seemed hard to fathom as everyone trickled out of the stadium. Did the crowd feel as excited about the event as the media did? Did we just watch a game where both teams went the same direction? Did the loser and winner respectively beat Iowa and lose to Minnesota just last week? Will NU find ways to succeed with Watkins, and (or?) will Persa come back just as strong next year? Is Illinois really on its way back to prominence? Did we just see the last college football game ever played in Wrigley Field?
For the answers to these questions and more (say it with me Cub fans) … "Wait til next year."
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