Manhattan / KSU

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Article Published: Monday, October 20, 2003

big 12 football

Fans at Kansas State too difficult to satisfy

 

By Bill Briggs

Denver Post Sports Writer

 

MANHATTAN, Kan. - These days, reality bites in the "Little Apple."

 

Sure, the home folks are swaddled in purple, but some fans are singing the football blues as Kansas State routs Colorado 49-20 on a dazzling autumn afternoon. They moan at their coach, they curse at their defense and they call their quarterback, Ell Roberson, "Ellie." Funny, because Roberson has set two school records and pushed Kansas State to a cushy lead over the Buffaloes. Not much to complain about, you would think.

 

Unless your team once flirted with brilliance. And now is merely good.

 

Away from this shower of self- criticism, a few hundred Colorado fans in two tiny clumps cheer for the Buffs in black-and-gold anonymity. No need for extra cops in the aisles or sportsmanship pleas on the KSU Stadium scoreboard. The K-Staters barely notice when we sing the CU fight song. It's all about them.

 

This was Week 6 of The Denver Post's trek through Big 12 football country. At each stadium, I sit with the home fans while wearing the visiting team's garb. That kind of color mixing has sparked some verbal abuse - or at least has drawn notice.

 

But on the grassy slope of the north end zone, where Wildcats rooters are baking in black folding chairs, some fans hold long conversations around me (about hunting or the hot weather) while others pepper only the home team with thoughtful suggestions.

 

"Why don't you just LET them score? They're gonna score anyway!"

 

"Hey, how about we can actually tackle someone on this drive!"

 

"Ellie, you might want to change your skirt at halftime!"

 

Strong safety Rashad Washington heard it from the guy behind me. And all Washington did was block two punts, leading to a safety and a touchdown against the Buffs.

 

As coach Bill Snyder walks through the end-zone seats at halftime - with his team leading 15-13 - he is teased about his hairline and mocked for having the Wildcats kneel down to end the second quarter. All Snyder did was take K-State from the very portrait of a putrid (0-11 in 1988, 1-10 in 1989) and put it in the national title picture by the late 1990s.

 

Of course, that's the deal in Manhattan. The fan psyche is defined by a short memory and tall expectations. In 1989, Sports Illustrated dubbed K-State "Futility U," the first football team to lose 500 times. When it rained, the cramped locker room flooded. Barbells in the weight room were coated with rust. The Wildcats couldn't beat the likes of Austin Peay or Northern Iowa.

 

Back then, the fans at a half-full KSU Stadium erupted in giggles over the hapless play between K-State and Kansas one afternoon. They couldn't help themselves, recalls John Fairman, the Wildcats' director of licensing. It was a comedy of turnovers and bad snaps. Then Fairman wondered: "Is getting laughed at worse than being booed?"

 

Enrollment was down, fund-raising had stalled, K-State merchandise was as hip as Bea Arthur and the football team had no tradition, no buzz, no believers.

 

 

But when Snyder hit Manhattan, the school piped millions of dollars into its sagging football facilities and eventually added 2 million square feet total to the campus. Alums noticed: Fundraising jumped from $4 million in 1986 to $86 million last year. In 1989, Snyder changed the cartoonish "Willie the Wildcat" logo to the more menacing Powercat design. Fans bought it: K-State retail sales, which earned about $14,000 in 1987, topped $1.5 million last year.

 

Mostly, though, Snyder began luring scintillating talent to wake up the dormant program. He had them in a low-level bowl game in 1993; he had them playing the Cotton and Fiesta bowls in the late 1990s. School president Jon Wefald gave the turnaround a one in 1,000 chance when he arrived in 1986. The rise came so swiftly, Wefald has said, it's "in the realm of biblical miracles." Eleven-win seasons became the norm, then they became the culture.

 

So a 6-6 autumn, which recently beset K-State, or the 5-3 ride they're on now, has some 'Cats fans a tad finicky.

 

"The wheels are off," K-State backer "RioCat" posted last week on a Wildcats message board.

 

"It seems like the old-school people do remember the bad times, so they're probably more in defense of us," said Sean Snyder, Bill's son, who punted for the Wildcats in the early 1990s. Today, he heads K-State's football operations. "You know, they realize it could be 0-10, 0-11 and it's not. But those people have grown accustomed to wins, too. There are a lot of armchair quarterbacks out there."

 

That includes the jet stream of new students pushing enrollment figures to fresh heights - one of the pleasant spinoffs of K-State's success. But as Wefald, one of the architects of the plan, will tell you: "Our students don't know it any other way." They may be a tad bit spoiled.

 

With the Wildcats up 29-13 in the third quarter, the Buffs tossed a sideline completion good for 1 yard.

 

"Come on," I shouted. "We need more than that to get back in this game."

 

"Come on," shouted Deke, a student behind me. "That's 1 yard too many."

 

More than perhaps any other student section in the Big 12, K-State kids are more focused on cheering the boys in purple than dissing anyone nearby in black and gold. In these days of nasty fan clashes, that kind of throwback behavior is welcome.

 

The only near encounter I had in my back Buffaloes sweat shirt was with a passing student wearing only a purple K on his chest who silently shook his head as he stared me down. Other than that, I may as well have been invisible.

 

So are the losers, normally taunted and tormented as they leave any Big 12 field.

 

After a group of CU players finish some quiet reflection in their end-zone prayer circle, they stand and walk through the K-State fans in the north end zone. The Wildcatters merely make a hole and let the Buffs pass through in silence.

 

Kansas State report card

TAILGATING: C+ - They take over two full parking lots on the east and west sides of the stadium in a generally low-key, pregame assembly. You can't really call it a party. The music is muted. Most folks are sprawled in lawn chairs. But the food is pure Midwest: lots of steaks. Not as many RVs as you see at some Big 12 schools, but few Buffs fans made the drive for this game. (2.5 points out of 4.0 possible)

 

STUDENT SUPPORT: A - Maybe the hardest working bunch in the Big 12. After touchdowns, the kids pass classmates horizontally through the stands in the always fun sport of crowd surfing. As many as 10 students at a time are lifted onto a sea of hands and passed up the section toward the concourse. They shook sparkily purple and silver pompoms and did a strange back-and-forth dance that looked like it may be some sort of rain ritual - or chicken imitation. (4.0)

 

GAME-DAY ATMOSPHERE: C - They did cheer loudly and late between gripes and groans. And the place was bathed in purple. But often, the game seemed more like a laid-back baseball atmosphere than a college football game day. (2.0)

 

TRASH TALKING: D - With two programs entering the game on downward spins, nobody was chest-thumping about his team. The best of the trash talking was saved for the home team - by the home fans. (1.0)

 

FEAR FACTOR: A - I would be scared only if I were a K-State player who lost a home game. The fans were totally focused on their team and paid little attention to the small contingent of Buffs rooters. (4.0)

 

GOOD WINNERS/POOR LOSERS: A - Usually after a blowout, you can at least count on the home students for some good ribbing. The only comment I got while strolling through the pregame tailgate parties in black and gold: "Hey, how'd it go in there?" (4.0)

 

* GPA: 2.91

 

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