0 4 ~ :... grandkids pile into a 30-foot camper and make the half-hour drive from Plymouth to Ann Arbor (Werth, because of a bad hip, follows behind in his car). No matter what time the game starts, Werth and his family are in their spot by 6:30 a.m. "The game could start at eight o'clock at night and I would be here at 6:30," he says, sitting on a stool with his walker in front of him. Werth has been attending games since 1941, when he took the Wabash train from Detroit to Ann Arbor. He remembers when game tickets cost $5 in 1973 and it didn't cost $420 a year to park in the Victor's Lot, like it does now. Today, at age 76, he is unable to go into the games because of his hip and watches them on a plasma TV that sits right next to a large assortment of pre-game food. Werth is a prime example of another aspect of Football Saturday: the fans, who provide not only the nation's largest crowd, but a sense of togetherness and family. All around the stadium, fathers and their young sons, wolverines-in-training, can be seen throwing a football back and forth, while at nearby houses, students teach their parents how to play beer pong. Portable barbecue grills, tents and cold beverages are everywhere you look, as if food and football are inseparable (to most, they are). It's a time to hang out with 110,000 friends, united by a love of football and the joy of being with loved ones. "Instead of my kids going every way but loose, I bring them here. It's a family - a whole day of the family being together," Werth says. Not far away from Werth, in an adjacent parking lot, Tom Suther- land, a physician, and his wife, Ann, sit quietly outside their car, reading the newspaper and waiting for their friends to arrive. A graduate of the University of Kentucky and an Ann Arbor native, Sutherland converted to Michigan football fan when he saw legendary Michigan coach Bo Schembechler in his church. "I don't know what it is about Michigan football," he says, which sums up the feelings of most fans. They know they want to be inside that massive stadium on Saturday, and they know they're part of some- thing special. In 1903, according to the Bentley Historical Library, a football ticket for an important game - played at the old Regent's Field, located at present-day Schem- bechler Hall on State Street, could sell for upwards of $3 and tremen- dous fan interest caused Ferry Field to be built, the precursor to Michi- gan Stadium. One hundred years later, prices may have changed, but the dynamic remains the same. It helps explain why Michigan Sta- dium has expanded its seating capac- ity six times since it opened in 1927 and the waiting list for season tick- ets, according to Associate Athletic Director Marty Bodnar, has approxi- mately 7,000 people on it. It's a reason why students and alumni alike wake up at the crack of dawn and party for six hours before the game starts and six hours afterwards. Each person leaves a game with enough memories to keep them coming back for more, addicted to both the atmosphere out- side the stadium and the happenings inside of it. Everybody has a story. Werth recalls the time he had a heart attack during the Michigan-Michigan State game in 1996 and remembers hear- ing "The Victors" while he was being wheeled out of the stadium. Sutherland's friend, Bob Graves, School of Business '81, remembers his first game in 1942 where the men wore gabardine pants and long- sleeved shirts, and the women wore dresses and large hats. Students use game days as an AARON SWICK/Daily Two hundred sixty-five marching band members participate in the halftime show of each Michigan home football game. (And you don't want to leave your room and computer?) (What can be any easier? You'll never need a paper menu or a phone again!) opportunity to party, paint their faces blue and play cowbells inces- santly. At 6:30 in the morning before the Notre Dame game, in front of a fraternity house on State Street, LSA freshman Adam Coleman, dressed in, among other things, a blue cape, was throwing a football around with his friends. Why was he partying so early in the morning? "It's not worth it if you don't start early," he said. "I'd rather sleep on a Saturday'' When the march- ing band was fin- ishing up their pre-game show against North- ern Illinois, LSA junior Alexander Jacobson was just waking up. He left his house on Thompson Street around 5 p.m. and headed to a nearby coffee shop for coffee and a pastry. At 6 p.m., he traveled home to have dinner with his family and then ven- tured back to Ann Arbor for a night of drinking with his friends. Jacobson has not attended a foot- ball game while at the University, admitting that "it's kind of a pain to go and get accosted by drunk freshmen everywhere." Instead, he, like many other students, chooses to relax, catch up on work or expe- rience the other activities that Ann Arbor has to offer. While at first, this concept seems inconceivable at a sports-obsessed school like the University, Jacob- son is not alone. According to Bod- nar, 20,988 students from the Ann Arbor, Flint and Dearborn campuses applied for football tickets this year, up from 18,971 the year before. But entire student body from the three campuses is eligible to apply for tickets, which amounts to more than 54,000 people. The fact is that fans are more vocal about their love for football than nonfans are about their indifference. On TheFacebook, the group "Michigan Football" has more than 5,000 members while "Not Obsessed with Michigan Football" has slightly more than 100. But there's still something to be said for those who choose not to attend the games. A Football Sat- urday is a surreal experience foi students, one filled with excessive pre-partying, nonstop screaming and clapping and an inevitable nap after what, in the end, amounts to just a football game. Throughout the week, play-calling is analyzed, coaches are scrutinized and victories are consid- ered the norm. For students who opt out, there's hardly a sense of loss. "I don't feel as if I'm missing out more on the culture than the energy that (goes) with it," Jacobson said. Music senior Danielle Ibrahim - who spent the weekend of the East- ern Michigan game up at North Cam- pus practicing the French horn for the concert band - summed up her feel- ings easily, saying "I'm not interested in football. I can have fun elsewhere, and it doesn't involve football. I'd rather sleep on a Saturday." "I feel it is a waste of my time and FREE & EASY TO USE (Why ZGoclub corn7 No fees or dues. A large variety of restaurants to choose from. Earn free food. No moredlanguage barriers or inaccurate orders. No more busy signals or being put on hold. Restaurant menus are put on the site - simply click to order! JOIN TODAY!) 10B - The Michigan Daily Thursday, September 29, 2005 The Michigan Daily -