Commentary for Iowa State Game

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And to help you get into the mood for Saturdays game against Iowa State (if this group needed any more things to get into the mood), here are a few things to help you along. First are some things you should know about Nebraska University.

Recognize it: Nebraska is a smaller university in a thinly populated state. We don’t have too much to draw on---either in alumni base or in state wealth.

I. But here's What We Are:

A) Big 12 School Enrollments: (Undergraduate and Graduate; Source: Kansas City Star, 6/06)

1. Texas : 50,377
2. Texas A&M: 44,435
3. Colorado : 32,362
4. Texas Tech: 28,325
5. Oklahoma : 27,483
6. Missouri : 27,003
7. Kansas : 26,980
8. Iowa State : 26,380
9. Oklahoma State : 23,819
10 Kansas State: 23,151
11 Nebraska: 21,792
12 Baylor: 13,799
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B) Population Density: People per Square Mile (Big 12 states; Source: U.S. Census, 2000)

1. Missouri : 81.2
2. Texas : 79.6
3. Iowa : 52.4
4. Oklahoma : 50.3
5. Colorado : 41.5
6. Kansas : 32.9
7. Nebraska: 22.3 people/square mile
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C) State Population: (Big 12 states; Source: U.S. Census, 2006 estimate)

1. Texas : 23.5
2. Missouri : 5.8
3. Colorado : 4.8
4. Oklahoma : 3.6
5. Iowa : 3.0
6. Kansas : 2.8
7. Nebraska: 1.8-million
[Note: The Texas population (23.5-mil) is more than all of the other Big 12 states combined (21.8-mil).]
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II. How We’re Known:

The nation knows us mostly for our football---it’s become a major part of our identity.
--The state name is typically in national rankings.
--High-profile bowl games are frequent.
--Memorial Stadium is known as "the state’s third largest city."
--The phrase "A sea of red"…. it’s ours.

For a humble state in America ’s outback.... that’s quite a bit.
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A) Average Football Attendance: (2006. NCAA)

1. Texas : 88,505
2. Nebraska: 85,044
3. Oklahoma : 84,561
4. Texas A&M: 75,985
5. Missouri : 55,918
6. Texas Tech: 50,874
7. Kansas State : 46,693
8. Iowa State : 46,177
9. Colorado : 46,084
10 Kansas : 44,137
11 Oklahoma State: 40,954
12 Baylor: 37,080
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B) Fan Support: Football Attendance / School Size

1. Nebraska: 3.9 fans in attendance per student enrolled.
2. Oklahoma : 3.1
3. Baylor: 2.7
4. Missouri : 2.1
5. Kansas State : 2.0
6. Texas : 1.8
7. Iowa State : 1.8
8. Texas Tech: 1.8
9. Texas A&M: 1.7
10 Oklahoma State: 1.7
11 Kansas : 1.6
12 Colorado : 1.4
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C) Accomplishments In All Sports: 2007 "Directors Cup" points / school size
1. Baylor: 37.0
2. Nebraska: 31.4 points / 1,000 students
3. Oklahoma : 25.6
4. Oklahoma State : 21.2
5. Texas : 20.6
6. Texas A&M: 19.8
7. Texas Tech: 16.0
8. Colorado : 15.9
9. Missouri : 14.5
10 Kansas : 11.1
11 Iowa State: 10.3
12 Kansas State: 6.3
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The Bottom Line:
As schools go…. ours is a smaller one in a modest state. But in terms of performance and support we’re always near the top.

Good things don’t happen by themselves.

Devaney and Osborne started it. Others have pushed it foward. Among them…

--Bill Byrne was seen as "Dollar Bill"---but he was among the first to show how to build skyboxes that largely paid for themselves. And he put Husker baseball and Hawkes Field on the map.

--Steve Pederson will be known for moving along Solich. But he’ll also be known for answering needs that had been there for years---the need for more stadium seating and the need for top-of-the-line football facilities. This one is still not decided and is up for grabs.

--Husker fans: Outsiders may try to minimize our loyalties…. "There’s nothing else to do there." But we’ve filled our stadium 282 consecutive times (yes, a national record). And among those who care (e.g., bowl selection committees), we’ve become well-known for traveling to support our team.

Is it true… "There is no place like Nebraska " ? Yep. We made it that way.
Is it also true… All we’ve got is each other? You better believe it. There’s no one else out there in the media or in the flesh doing Nebraska any favors. It’s just us.

There's some advice that applies here:
--Know who you are.
--Be grateful for what you’ve got.

We're working on doing both. Just think about it.

Now think back about all the great games in Husker History, maybe this will help get your Big Red blood flowing. http://tinyurl.com/2ummhh

If your heading for Lincoln this fall this might be your thoughts as you take off from Tucson and head to the Meca of College Football:

It's more than the game, really. I think it means more for out-of-staters too. At least for those who don't live in or get to Lincoln much. It's more than simply going back home. It's a sense of renewal, of reinvigoration, of reconnecting to things in life which drive you and make you wait for this day like a child waits for Christmas. The review that follows fits those who start their football day in Omaha , and for others a bit different set of circumstances are in order.

It's about flying in, descending slowly over the yellowing cornfields, gazing out the window, looking at your watch impatiently, until you get close enough to see the Missouri River and the growing downtown Omaha skyline, and you start to feel at home again. You land, and wait anxiously to deplane and upon the first burst of light in the terminal as you leave the walkway, you instinctively look at the faces, as if you'll see someone you know, even though no one is there waiting for you.

You take the familiar walk to your rental car, and drive down past Carter Lake, a drive you've made 300 times before-at first, as a teen to go to the drag races out on the old, distant, dark lanes ending out beyond Dodge Park when nothing else was there in the 70s and 80s, and now, the other way, down a nicely newly-manicured road, and as you do, you catch your first glimpse of the new downtown Omaha. You see the Woodmen Tower and other familiar trappings of a city freshly scrubbed and nicely grown up. It seems both imposingly new yet still familiar to you since you left for good 20 years ago. It makes you proud.

You drive past the new Qwest Center and Hotel, smiling at the thought that the city that couldnt attract major shows now is a destination for them. You think of the Old Civic Auditorium, the old barn where you took in your first NBA game, watching Tiny Archibald work his magic and Sudden Sam Lacey grabbing rebounds, and where you saw your first concert, on Crosby Stills Nash and Young's last tour together. Your mind drifts to watching Baron Von Raschke vs Mad Dog Vachon wrestling for the Heavyweight Championship, when your mom and dad let you ride the bus to go downtown alone for the first time.

Suddenly, something yanks you back to the present, as you're driving down Dodge St past all the old familiar 2 am destinations when you had to cover one eye to read the signs in your youth. Past the old Ready Mix Plant, past UNO and Memorial Park, and now, you're almost there, in your old neighborhood. You get to 72nd and Dodge, which to you is still the Center of the Universe, as it was for you growing up, even though today, it's considered "east omaha " almost.

Then the familiar drive past the old family house, by Crossroads and down where Peony Park used to be, the Goodrich Malt store and Roberts Park. You think of family and friends you'll see at some point during the vist, and of family you miss who you can only see in your heart now. You wish they could be there with you, and with you share the eager sense of anticipation, that special pre-fall ever-so-slight cool in the air at night as September approaches. A touch of sadness comes and goes as you remember how long it has been since you last shared such feelings and emotions with them. But, you feel grounded again.

When Saturday finally arrives, you wake from a restless sleep, because you've never been able to sleep the night before the first game. Yet, your step is light, your senses sharp, your emotions bubbling up and a sense, again this year, of renewal, that whatever happened in the past year, you're turning the page today and life begins anew again, because it's time for a new year, a new season. At least that's the way it is for Nebraskans--for Cornhuskers.

Then, the drive. You get into your car at 9 am, anxious to get there and feel Lincoln on game day again. It's 45 minutes, but seems like an instant. You savor the drive, and it seems to pass too quickly. The first foray of the fall down I-80, past Sapp Brothers, weaving through whatever construction they've put in your path this year. You notice the rural country side and landscape, and how much more comfortable it feels to you than other places and where you live now. You cross the Platte River in what seems like no time, signifying that you're half way there, time to turn on KFAB, just because that's what you do and have done for decades before. Then, you hit the familiar "Waverly Curve" where I-80 kisses Highway 6, and you know you're in the home stretch.

You finally get to Exit 401, and that's when your pulse starts to quicken. You can feel it again, the adrenaline. Your mind races with all the times you've made this drive before, and what you saw when you did....

Tearing down goalposts after conquering the Sooner Jinx in 78, Mike Rozier slashing bowlegged through what seemed like statues in 83. Johnnie Mitchell making fingertip catches on a day in 91 when you couldn't feel your hands. Tommie Frazier and LP making you realize that, during all those years when you said "darn it--some year..."-well, that year was here. Blackshirts' wreckage strewn across the astroturf. Eric Crouch bringing you to tears hauling in the pass on a day you thought would never happen again in 01.

All those things race through your mind as you watch your speed carefully, down the highway, until--LOOK--there it is, to your left, that huge, gray, sturdy, impenetrable facade, with the huge N, telling you that, indeed, you were home again.

In days past, you'd park in yards or alleys for 5 bucks. Now, you park in parking garages and see the same folks, every year, who welcome you back and take your money. You get out and start walking, almost trotting anxiously, because you want to be on the street amongst the people. You want to see older folks wearing the red hats, and overalls, and other things that you swear you'll never wear, but knowingly laugh to yourself because you're thinking in the back of your mind, yes, someday you probably will wear those things too.

The traffic cops, the lines at Barry's, the people window shopping or just sight seeing. The smell. The feel. The noise. You can close your eyes and see it as it is today, and as it was in 1974 too when your dad led you to the stadium across the railroad tracks.

And finally, the best part of all, and sharing your favorite beverage with a few friends or with a hundred strangers who today, are your family....the walk. From wherever you choose to prepare before the game, the walk is what you feel in your blood, what you think about on the plane, what you've missed and waited for all winter, spring and through the dead of summer.

You try to see and sense almost everything, but cannot. But as you walk down 10th St , seemingly en masse with hundreds of others, you see the party tent on your right with the same van and satellite dish you've seen for 30 years. You hear music, and fight song reminding you that there, indeed, IS No Place Like Nebraska , and you absorb every GO HUSKERS and GO BIG RED. Your heart skips a beat, or two. You catch yourself smiling and your pace quickening. You get closer until, on your right, there it is. Memorial Stadium. You allow yourself a brief moment, a deep breath, a tingle.

As you find your gate to get inside the stadium, as you walk up the stairs and get closer, you can see the sun and sky and hear some of the pregame on the field, and when you finally emerge into the stadium at the top of the ramp and stairs, you take a long look and absorb what seems like a transfusion of life force. You stop, if only momentarily, to simply stare and see everything again. You swell with emotion and pride, yet strangely try to hide it, because that's what Nebraskans do.

And when you're finally seated with your Runza or Valintino's, and the Pride of All Nebraska finally bursts onto the field, you let it go...8 months of frustration, waiting, longing, boredom, and you drain---everything--and you soak in Hail Varsity, March Grandioso and There is No Place Like Nebraska like the desert soaks up a cloudburst. At that very moment, nothing else in the world matters except your love affair with all that's good and right about a fall Saturday in Nebraska .

Life is full and good again. And then, Sirius starts....(the tunnel walk music)

"Just line up and beat the Hell out of somebody"