Well, that was a fun weekend, wasn’t it?
On Sunday afternoon, head coach Katie Schumacher-Cawley and the Penn State women’s volleyball team won the program’s first national championship in a decade, and eighth overall. It made Schumacher-Cawley the first woman to win an NCAA Division I volleyball championship as a head coach. All while dealing with a stage 2 breast cancer diagnosis.
And the other thing was fun too. You know the one: when a little more than a hundred thousand people came together on Saturday at Penn State to watch the first-ever College Football Playoff game in Beaver Stadium— where Penn State triumphed over SMU by a score of 38-10.
Except, the number-one concern for some of us was not if the football team would win, but rather how we would stave off frostbite.
Some fun, huh?
I’m kidding, of course (But not by much!).
My family and I were part of that mass of humanity in Beaver Stadium, and all of us escaped unscathed from frostbite – although two of my toes were still yellow when we got home – but it was not without a concerted effort on our part that we not only enjoyed the tailgating and the game, but stayed warm. Or at least warm enough to savor Penn State football’s first ever playoff win!
According to the National Weather Service, when we arrived at our parking spot south of Beaver Stadium at 8 a.m., the temperature was 23 degrees with a 13 mph wind out of the northwest, and a wind chill of 11 degrees. We arrived a little later than planned since the parking lots opened at 7 a.m., but still with plenty of time to enjoy a few hours of tailgating on that very cold and windy morning. Two of our tailgating neighbors were already there and set up, and we commenced our “process.”
Let’s talk about this tailgating “process” for a bit. Someone in every family or group has the responsibility for the tailgating process. How the tailgate supplies are packed and unpacked. Where the supplies go when you get to your tailgating spot. How the tailgate is set up. How the canopy – or canopies – are laid out and what devices are used to hold them down. How you deal with the uneven ground or slope of the lot. Which food and drink goes on the tables and which goes on the ground. Where the chairs are set up around the tailgating space. And on and on.
It’s a choreographed dance routine taking place in a limited outdoor space surrounded by thousands of others choreographing their own routines among all the cars, trucks, vans, SUVs and RVs. Routines that are replayed seven times a year and, as I mentioned, exist primarily in the mind of that one “someone” who has the responsibility for the process. For good, bad or worse, I am that someone in my family. And I generally must not be disturbed while the process plays out.
Now, you may help me with the process, but you darn well better know what the end result is supposed to look like, or your help will be considered a willful effort to make me question your usefulness. Asking where things go might be acceptable, but receiving vague directions such as “over there,” “next to that thing,” or “on top of the stuff” must be understood, or you might as well just pour yourself a drink and get out of my way.
Under normal Penn State football game day circumstances, the process unfolds fairly easily. If it’s rainy, I just pack a canopy last, making it the first thing out and set up to provide a semi-dry place for the rest of the process to unfold.
But extremely cold weather makes it a bit trickier because I have to dress warmly enough so I don’t freeze, but not so warm I start to sweat or can’t move easily. With a tailgating temperature of 23 degrees and a wind chill of 11 degrees, that takes a little planning.
But things went well, we got set up, tailgated, plenty of other friends arrived, and before we knew it three hours had passed and it was time to head into the game.
Now for some serious consideration about frostbite.
When we are tailgating in extreme cold we keep a propane heater running so we all have a way to warm up a bit. Not to mention that I’m generally moving around a bit, sipping scotch (drink responsibly!) and otherwise engaged so the cold doesn’t feel too bad.
But when I go into the game, I know I’ll be mostly sitting or standing in one place, and I need to rely on my own body temperature to keep me warm. Or the small hand and toe warmers that go in with me. So I have to dress appropriately. Well, more than appropriately. Much more appropriately. As an avowed cold weather hater – living in Orlando for 13 years makes one warm-weather spoiled – I might overdo it a bit.
Basically, I was a walking advertisement for cold weather gear.
On top, I started with a Land’s End long-sleeve thermal shirt, then a North Face quarter zip, followed by a Patagonia puffer jacket, a hooded Champion reverse-weave sweatshirt and a hooded Columbia wind/rain jacket, with a classic white Penn State No. 45 Nike jersey covering it all. XXL of course!
On bottom, Under Armour leggings beneath Duluth Trading Company fire hose pants. On my feet, REI wool socks and Columbia boots. On my hands, Knütes mittens. And to cover the seat and wrap around me, an insulated waterproof Woolrich blanket.
Yes, I looked like some combination of the Michelin Man, the Pillsbury Doughboy and the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. None of whom, as far as I can tell, is ever asked to perform a basic bodily function while being that large. Or dig a wallet and credit card out of their Velcro-sealed pants pocket.
Nonetheless, except for those toes I mentioned at the beginning, everything went well and I’m here to write about the experience. While I’m simultaneously watching an NFL game on television where the Buffalo Bills are playing host to the New England Patriots in even colder weather. Apparently NFL fans have been dealing with these sub-freezing game day experiences for decades. Who knew?!
Luckily for the Penn State football team and us fans, the playoff quarterfinal rounds are played at traditional bowl game sites and not the home team’s campus stadiums. Otherwise Penn State would be trekking to Boise, Idaho, to play on the famous blue turf in Albertson’s Stadium – where the long range forecast for the night of New Year’s Eve is a low of 29 degrees.
Instead, the team is going to sunny Glendale, Arizona, for the last day of December. And the two games after that (I’m projecting positive energy here!) will be played in a warm-weather climate – Miami – and a dome (Atlanta can get cold in mid-January!).
Meaning, as much as I enjoyed being part of that first-ever College Football Playoff game in Beaver Stadium (no souvenir ticket to show any future grandkids), I’m not quite an NFL-caliber fan yet when it comes to the cold, and there’s something to be said for watching a game in shorts and a polo shirt. On to Arizona!
