This Is Why Student Sections Are for Students

This piece by Will Leitch appears in the latest issue of SN Magazine.



I didn’t have as much fun in college as I should have. Everyone has wild stories from college -- manic kids flush with their first taste of freedom experimenting, running amok. I was not like that. I toiled at the student newspaper 12 hours a day, graduated in four years and foolishly acted like college was for work, not play. That was dumb. I have a pathetically small number of fun stories from college. I regret it.

Mostly, I wish I had sat with the students for basketball games rather than in the press box. At Illinois, the Orange Krush student section rivals the best pep squads -- just a bunch of screaming loons singing “Oskee Wow Wow,” jeering at Big Ten foes and making idiots of themselves in the name of all things Illini. They look like they’re having so much fun, situated courtside and causing a ruckus. Those seats cost thousands in the NBA; in college, they’re 10 bucks with a student ID.

So when one of those Krush students offered me a ticket for the Illinois-Purdue game (on CBS!), I leapt at the opportunity. At last, 12 years after graduating, I could live the crazy college experience. All night drinking! Face painting! Mean remarks about Chris Kramer’s mother! Bring it. I envisioned a “You Are Here” participatory journalism project, but mostly I just wanted to tell Chester Frazier how awesome he is from a dangerously close distance.

I knew I was in trouble the night before, when my contact, an ambitious freshman named Spencer Turkin, sent me a text message: “Great news! A bunch of us have decided to sleep outside Assembly Hall before the game. We’ll be there waiting for you when your plane lands!” Wait. Sleeping outside? In the cold? I suddenly felt old. I texted Spencer : “Thanks and all, but I’ll sleep in a bed, if that’s OK.”

At 8 a.m., four hours before tipoff, I showed up clad in orange and was told immediately by the groggy crew of all-nighters that this would not do. Within minutes, I was wearing an orange construction helmet, orange sunglasses, an orange hunting vest and an Orange Krush T-shirt. “Better,” said Myles Hastings, a senior who’s head of the Krush. The doors opened at 11 and we sprinted to our seats. I was at courtside, 10 feet from Verne Lundquist, who, I’m not ashamed to say, is an incredibly handsome man.

It’s a lot of work sitting in the student section. You stand the whole time, and there are organized cheers I had to cram for. You learn what to do when the opposing team is shooting free throws, which player to ruthlessly scream vulgarities at (Purdue’s Kramer, obviously), how to deal with the refs (be polite but firm) and which players need a boost when they’re down (Alex Legion tops this list). These guys had stayed up all night and were at the peak of their abilities the whole game. Me? I was exhausted by halftime. By game’s end, this old man just needed a chair.

The Illini won handily, so I didn’t rush the court like I’d dreamed. But I did all right. I didn’t get thrown out, my helmet didn’t fall off and cause Mike Tisdale to tear an ACL (my biggest fear), and I think referee Tom O’Neill might be my new best friend. But, yes: I’m too old for this. Those kids have a lot more energy than I do. Afterward, I bought beer for the kids who let me sit with them, sang one last “Oskee Wow Wow” and then slept for 15 hours. Turns out, college is still too wild for me.

This post originally appeared on the Sporting Blog. For more, see The Sporting Blog Archives.