A Saturday Game, the Parking Lot

 It has to be NCAA D-III football when you stop on your way back to the car so the visiting team can get back to its bus.  Do players and parents meet in the lot after an Ohio State-Michigan game?  I doubt it.

Yesterday was Seniors’ Day at Elmhurst, and, according to the rules of being a father-in-law, my presence was expected, maybe even desired.  I can only imagine what the parents of those seniors were going through as they made their way onto the field, listening to their sons’ accomplishments over the course of a college career and remembering other times at other places.  There was high school, Pop Warner, the backyard.

The Vikings of North Park University—the cause of my postgame traffic jam in the parking lot—lived up to their team name, coming and conquering by a score of 36-19.  No matter.  I got to sit behind the Bluejays’ mascot, Victor E., and told the oversized bird, Down in front!  I bet that kind of thing doesn’t happen at Camp Randall Stadium.   

There might’ve been 30 people on the visitors’ side, each person a true fan and/or parent.  You sit in the November cold because it’s your kid and you love him.  They fill up Camp Randall for somewhat different reasons.

This is not to deny that D-I sports or the pros have their share of committed fans.  The difference comes at the receiving end.  Maryland didn’t care about Jordan McNair any more than Rick Pitino ever cared about anyone but himself.  That’s the nature of bigtime college sports, not everywhere perhaps but in plenty of places.  If anything, it’s worse in the pros.

Reading Willie McCovey’s obituary, I was reminded that the Giants nearly moved to Tampa.  Gosh, the White Sox nearly moved to Tampa.  All you fans who loved McCovey or Luis Aparicio, thank you, but business is business.  What’s that?  You’ve convinced enough politicians to fund us a new stadium?  Why, in that case let’s celebrate by coming up with McCovey Cove.

I’ve come to appreciate the traffic jams in parking lots at D-III schools.