I’ve only been to 2 Purdue football games in my life. Around 1970 or 71, my dad got a deal on some great seats for the whole family on the 50-yard-line, 378 rows up, to watch the Boilers play the Michigan Wolverines.

From our vantage point, sometimes you could see the little dots on the field moving around. But every time they started, the lumbering oaf with the foul mouth seated in front of me would stand up, shout colorful things, and remain standing until the noise died down.

When I would ask my dad what was going on, he’d say, “Shut up, I’m trying to listen to the game,” as he pressed a transistor radio against his head. It was a real treat. I do remember enjoying watching the group with the big flash cards – black on one side, gold on the other – flipping them to make different pattern schemes.

Purdue must have been losing, because we left early. At least I could make out the big drum during the half-time show.

A few years later, in Jr. high School, knothole tickets to the Old Oaken Bucket Game were made available to Sunnyside students for just $3. A friend convinced me it would be a great opportunity to go watch cheerleaders.

One of the things I learned in Jr. High was that “knothole” means as far away from the cheerleaders as you can possibly sit. They’re end-zone seats, in the refrigerated section. If I remember correctly, the ball only made it to that end of the field twice during the entire game.

In more recent years, the closest I’ve come to a Purdue football game, has been dropping my wife and son off at Ross-Ade to sell pizzas at the concession stand. When I would pick them up, they’d bring free pizza. That was my fondest experience.

Mike VanOuse
Lafayette