Big Ten’s kickoff just didn’t feel right
Bucky Badger missing, and cardboard cutouts replace fans
MADISON, Wis.— Inside and outside Camp Randall Stadium, the senses of the college football seasonwere gone.
Usually on Saturday afternoons, walking down State Street is like navigating herds of Times Square pedestrian traffic.
But for Friday night’s longawaited Big Ten season opener betweenWisconsin and Illinois, small groups of college students, bundled up against chillyweather, tried to make the most of it— but the mass of people who usually descend uponMadison, Wis., were absent.
Even the smell of grilled bratwurst in stadium parking lot tailgateswas noticeably gone.
A pre-pandemic digital signwelcoming “THEMOST PASSIONATE STUDENTS IN COLLEGE FOOTBALL” to the stadiumwas a cruel reminder of what used to be.
Instead of more than 80,000 fans screaming to create one of college football’s most raucous environments, there was a fake soundtrack of fans and a “murmur” soundtrack piped in to the empty stadium. The traditional third-quarter playing of “Jump Around” that makes the stadium swaywas played only in a snippet and felt like blasting music at a party nobody showed up to attend.
Cardboard cutouts of fans in bottom rowswere the only carbon-based forms taking up space in the stands as no bands, cheerleaders or even Bucky Badgerwere permitted into the stadium. AfterWisconsin throttled Illinois 45-7, the victorious Badgerswalked off the field without applause.
“Itwas just quiet,” Illinois quarterback Brandon Peters said.
This is Big Ten pandemic football. It could have been called “The PostApocalypse Bowl.” All thatwasmissing was a tumbleweed blowing across the 50-yard line.
COVID-19 forced the Big Ten to take necessary precautions to try to reduce the spread of the virus while still continuing with an American sports tradition— and continuing to make money for the conference and universities, of course.
After initially setting a safety-first standard in August and postponing the season, the Big Ten held a second vote less than two months later afterwatching most other Power Five conferences proceed with play (and some outbreaks). The Big Ten decided to kick off the season in October, citing daily testing and other protocolswould make it safe enough to compete.
The question remained Friday: Why was this game happening at all?
TheU.S. on Friday hit its highest COVID-19 case numbers since the pandemic began, with at least 82,900 new infections. Hospitalizations increased in 38 states, many in the Midwest.
Wisconsin’s positivity rate had hovered around 20%— or higher— most of the week. In some parts of the state, 90% of intensive care unit bedswere full, according to reports citing Gov. Tony Evers’ office. OnWednesday, a patientwas admitted to a makeshift field hospital at the state fairgrounds.
Not everyone followed the governor’s and university chancellor’s requests to watch the game fromhome.
“Everyone is going to flood the bars, andwe’re going to see a spike in two weeks,” said sophomore RexWenger, who planned towatch the game at home with three roommates and a friend. “We’re probably in the minority.”
Many college students, of course, maintained a semblance of their natural habitat. Neighboring houses onMonroe Street sawyoungwomen dancing on a balcony while a group of young men next door stood on their roof chatting with them.
Students said some college bars charged as much as $200 to reserve tables at establishments ordered to limit capacity to curb the spread ofCOVID-19.
Hours before kickoff, maskwearing students at popular State Street bars showed their IDs towatch the game inside. Large houses near the stadium appeared crowded with more than residents even after the game ended.
Opting towatch the game at home seemed safer and cheaper to some. But some Badgers fans said it stillwas disappointing to miss the season opener in person.
“This is just the icing on the cake of COVID,” Wisconsin sophomore Connor Harrison said.
WillHazen, a senior, sat on a patio with roommates, socially distanced fromother tables, enjoying a few pregame drinks. He said they planned to return to their sixperson apartment towatch the game rather than attend parties or bar hop, as they did other years.
“There’s still a lot of camaraderie,” Hazen said. “I think they made the right decision with no fans. If itwas full capacity, I probablywouldn’t go (to the game). If itwas limited capacity and spaced out, I probablywould.”
Illinois fell to 0-2 in pandemic games. Entering Friday, the Illini had played only one other game in their history without fans, losing 7-0 toMunicipal Pier on Oct. 26, 1918, during the Spanish flu pandemic. Almost 102 years later, they failed to score an offensive touchdown yet again.
Illinois players seemed insulted they were pegged as heavy underdogs considering last season’s upset of the then-No. 6 Badgers. After that Illini win, a clever Memorial Stadiumworker piped in “Jump Around” for some extra salt in the Badgers’wounds.
It has been a while since that songwas played as intended.
Illinois andWisconsin— the first Big Ten teams to compete since sporting eventswere canceled inMarch— were tested every day since practices began and brought a tested-negative roster into the game.
Illinois’ travels kept team members limited to their charter flight, hotel, a team bus and the stadium.
The Illini stayed in a hotel Thursday night outsideMadison andwere the only guests. The hotel told them theywere the only guests in months, actually.
Illinois coach Lovie Smith appeared to keep his neck gaiter in place over his mouth and nose, whileWisconsin’s Paul Chryst struggled to followthe mask-wearing rule. Even in his postgame on-field television interview, hismask hung below his nose.
The coaches bumped elbows on the field at the end of the game instead of a traditional midfield handshake.
Thiswas the Big Ten’s stab at normal during the most abnormal of times.
“Itwas really different,” Chryst said. “The game itself, talking to the players, it felt like a game. No doubt itwas different, but I thought the guys handled itwell. Therewas good energy on the sideline, good energy exchanged, different units coming in.
“This team enjoyed the opportunity to play, enjoyed seeing each other, (getting) their chances to play. When guys made plays, (they) celebrate it. No doubt itwas different, but nonetheless itwas fun.” It always is for the winning team. Therewere a slate of conference games Saturday, then eight more gameswithout a break to help determine the Big Ten not-so-regular regular-season champions. A team with aCOVID-19 outbreak could dethrone itself and, in the grander scheme of life, prove thiswas an experiment of folly.
Until then, it’swalking a tightrope and playing on.
Asweird and quiet as ever.