Sept. 23, 2009
STATE COLLEGE, Pa. (AP) - The face of Penn State football is a senior citizen who often rolls up his khakis and jokingly abhors modern conveniences like e-mail.
But gradually, the program has crafted a gameday image that they hope transcends iconic coach Joe Paterno . The formula blends well-orchestrated theatrics, like the all-stadium "Whitehouse" for this weekend's Big Ten opener against Iowa, to factors beyond its control, namely a student section so rabid that diehards camp out on pavement outside Beaver Stadium for a week to claim the best seats.
Oh, and winning helps, too. No. 5 Penn State (3-0) is in the national title hunt once again.
"There's something about it, the whole business about the 'whiteout.' It's a bringing together of the whole institution, not only the undergraduate kids, but you see people out there that will be old men, maybe 60," the 82-year-old Paterno quipped this week.
"It's great to be a part of it, and I think the kids feel that way, too." The Nittany Lions have been playing big games for 44 years under the leadership of Paterno, who has guided the school to two national championships and five undefeated seasons. Bowl organizers love the school's loyal, national fan base. The program is the closest thing to a major league sports team in rural central Pennsylvania. Generations of alumstravel hours to help pack the 107,000 plus-seat stadium.
But the Nittany Lions' road to success hit a speed bump earlier this decade.
Four losing seasons in five years led some fans to wonder whether the game had passed Paterno by. Diehards spoiled with success were stunned as losses piled up.
Around 2003, those involved in game day festivities were talking about potentially spicing things up at Beaver Stadium. One idea they tried in 2004 was a student "whiteout" against Purdue. All 20,000-plus in the student section were urged to wear white.
"There was always the desire to lose the symphony crowd and get into a crowd that had a little more definitivehome field advantage that could be sustainable," said Guido D'Elia, director of communications and branding for the football program. "No one was really sure how to go about that."
Until Oct. 8, 2005, that is, when the overflow crowd of more than 109,800 packed into creaky Beaver to watch Penn State's dramatic 17-10 win over Ohio State.
At night, on national television, the sheer white of the frenzied student section created a lasting impression, their energy fueling the rest of the fans.
"The fans were wanting it, and wanting to participate more. Students were more geared into the team aspect," said D'Elia, who assumed his current post in 2004 after being connected with the program in some capacity since 1973.
"The combination of losing prior (to 2005), and what we were doing to help facilitate it, started all coming together when the team started to win in 2005, and we built on it," D'Elia said.
To the point where Penn State now typically has one student whiteout and one all-stadium whiteout, known as the "whitehouse" each season. A crowd full of fans dressed in white Penn State gear creates a surreal glow as lights beam down on the field. It's unclear exactly which school first urged its fans to dress in the same color scheme, though the gimmick has now become commonplace, especially after the 2005 Ohio State-Penn State game.
D'Elia and his staff of about 30 have turned game days into an event. Nearly every aspect is timed down to the minute, including the dramatic "Gladiator" soundtrack music that blares on the loudspeakers when the Nittany Lions arrive for pregame warmups, and the point when Paterno jogs out from the tunnel to lead the squad to the sideline.
The most dangerous time? It's when D'Elia must dodge his way past the Blue Band's tuba section, hugging the tunnel wall on his way to direct the rest of the show from the press box.
And that was just for last week's rather blase nonconference game against Temple. Just like with the players, there's more pressure for prime time games like Saturday's contest against Iowa.
"You want to be sharper, you want to be tuned in, you want to be on your game," D'Elia said.
He'll certainly have the student section on board. The tent city called "Paternoville" sprouted up Monday, a sure sign it's a big-game week at Penn State.
More than 110 tents had already been perched outside the student gate by midweek, filled with campers waiting to get choice seats.
"Weeks like this just show how much the students care about this football team," said Alex Cohen, a junior who is president of the Paternoville Coordination Committee.
Yes, there is a student group for this, too.
"I always say it's an indication of the expectations for the team, so we don't want to put too much pressure on them," Cohen said. "Every year it gets crazier and crazier. It really does."
Robert Forbes, who has attended Penn State games for 40 years, loves the atmosphere. He gets a bird's eye view of the student section from his club-level seats.
"Sometimes my seat shakes," Forbes said Wednesday after leaving the State College Quarterback Club lunch, for local boosters, at the stadium. "They're wonderful, and if they're not, I'll shout down and tell them!"
Fran Fisher, a former longtime Penn State broadcaster who retired from calling games in the late 1990s, credits students, who are based on the east side of the stadium, with invigorating what he joked was the "geriatric side" on the west end. "Back over the years, season ticket holders kept renewing. Those people got older and older and older," Fisher said. "As you got older, you don't react the same way."
Paterno loves the renewed vigor of the fans, though at midweek this week, his mind was on more pressing matters like the injuries to top linebackers Sean Lee and Navorro Bowman.
"You know, I just don't spend a lot of time thinking about that. On the field, I'll see the crowd, it'll be fun," Paterno said.
For all his talk about not wanting draw attention to himself, Paterno is well aware about the marketing and the image of the program in general.
Paterno is in the first year of a three-year contract extension, though at 82, he is clearly near the end of his tenure. When asked about retirement, Paterno has often tried to send a message that Penn State football is more than just about him. "We set out more than a decade ago to sell the Penn State football image and its brand, what it stands for. To an extent he helps with that by who he is, but it needs to stand on its own," D'Elia said. "That's what we've done."