I’ve always placed a lot of emphasis on a school’s stadium atmosphere with regard to the support and power of a program. There is a distinct correlation between home-field rowdiness and my perception and respect for the school. A lot of implications can be made based on how loud the place is on third down. How many people paid for a ticket? How big is the venue in the first place to provide space for all the noise making fans? Do people really care enough about the team to jump and scream in a manner that would certainly get you committed outside of such a context? Would that also make them the type to continue coming to games in the event of a rough season? All of these things are subtly indicative of the condition of a football program.
Over the past four years, the condition of the App State game day experience has been one in which I have taken great pride. In the world of FCS football, few stadium atmospheres affect the outcome of a game. With the average stadium in the subdivision boasting a meager 9,425 fans every home game (NCAA.org), Kidd Brewer’s average of almost 30,000 last year stands head and shoulders above the rest. The Rock has developed quite the reputation over the last half decade as one of the most difficult places to play in the FCS. It is an FBS caliber atmosphere and the fact that the App’s have only lost four home games since 2003 proves it.
It is for this reason that I was thoroughly worried about our program at the onset of the season. After the day of unpleasantness in Blacksburg, I expected the first home game at the Rock to be as rowdy and electric as it has been. There was new turf and new end zone seating to show off and with the FBS transition, I expected App nation to show up in force and raise all sorts of hell. The attendance that day was 26,415 and you couldn’t find a quieter bunch in a monastery. We were on the periphery of the home side student section, waving the flag and yelling on every defensive play as usual, but we couldn’t manage to rile up the surrounding crowd to save our lives. By the end of the game, most had left early and you could hear a pin drop.
I was filled with worry and disdain, but with the next week being the night game, I held tight to hope, praying that this wouldn’t be the theme throughout the season. The night game makes it possible for more people to make the trip and the extra time at the tailgate building anticipation and enjoying stiff drink would make the crowd a lot louder than the previous week’s meek display. When we entered the game, we decided to sit in the brand new temporary end zone section; little did we know that such a decision would ruin the experience. The fans in this section were even more apathetic than the week before. Of course they rarely cheered, but one group took it a step beyond by heckling us for trying to get the crowd into it. I was in the twilight zone. Not only was the stadium not loud anymore, but there were actually people there that were actively discouraging loud, involved fanship.
The week following the SSU game, I was anxious. Was this the end of Kidd Brewer Stadium as I had come to know and love it? Was the low fanship a sign of our program’s decline? Is it just the fact that freshmen don’t know what to do and they haven’t had a chance to learn? Was last year’s graduating class responsible for a lot of the noise of the last four years? Perhaps the weak out of conference opponents of the last two weeks had something to do with it. I really had no idea and the only thing that would really seal my conclusion was a conference game. 13 ranked UTC was coming to town. They gave us a barn-burner last year and if this didn’t get the fans out and rowdy, it could only be assumed that my worst fears had been realized.
We got there early, flag and all, and sat in a more central student section location. By kickoff the place was packed. Official attendance for Saturday was 27,304, though many believe it was much higher. Instead of the offensive shoot out that was expected, the game evolved into a defensive slug fest, ideal for noise and crowd involvement. Every time the Moc’s had the ball the stadium roared. BJ Coleman had to tell every lineman individually what play was coming next. When a corner blitz came on a second down and Coleman was sacked in a manner described by a Chattanooga newspaper writer as a “decapitation,” the Rock literally shook to its foundation. The ensuing third down was the loudest I have ever heard in Kidd Brewer Stadium. When the App’s picked up a botched snap and ran it over 60 yards to paint and the lead, the crowd was at its loudest level. Camera men on the top of the Owen’s field house had difficulty keeping their cameras steady as the mosh-pit of a student section churned with jubilant pandemonium. The Apps won 14-12 and my faith in our stadium was restored.
*Photo from playattherock.com
*Photo from playattherock.com
