Here at the Herald office, we have a rite of passage for sports editors past and present to bang their heads repeatedly against our sky-blue-stained walls as they contemplate the simple futility of it all.

As the ritual goes, we do this 600 or 700 times and, eventually, a rehashed, outdated column falls onto the page.

Where we rip into the student ticket owners of Wisconsin.

Usually, the target of this tired rage is the football crowd. They show up late. Their cheers are an embarrassing showcase of drunk college kids. Jump Around has become a departure time, not a momentum builder. Crotchety old alumni grumble and all that.

Now, as someone who has his own punctuality problems, enjoys cramming in that last beer and happens to think “Eat Shit, Fuck You” is simply modern prose, I have always defended the UW student section as a valuable, energetic crowd, that, at the very least, has not hindered a 50-4 record in Bret Bielema’s seven years (including as a coordinator) at Madison. As someone who has been to games at Michigan and Ohio State, it doesn’t get much louder than Camp Randall. You know, for at least three quarters of the game.

A word of praise should be tossed to the hockey student ticket owners as well. For a state that doesn’t possess an NHL team, the fervent support for what, at one time, was Wisconsin’s only worthwhile sport is admirable. Plus, they are damn witty to boot.

Which leaves us with the so-called Grateful Red.

And really, it is just sad at this point.

The cheers – or lack thereof – are stale, and in most cases, just plain uninspired. Mike Bruesewitz has provided perhaps the greatest opportunity in recent memory at UW to become an instant fan favorite, what with his constant diving to the floor, offensive rebounding, three-point shooting ability and absolutely superlative hair, but I have yet to see a Bruesewitz fan section yet, save the occasional sign. I mean, c’mon, how is there not a “Badgers For Brueser” club at each game? The UW student section doesn’t even have a choreographed free throw distraction.
The Grateful Red do rock the airball chant, though. So they have that going for them, which is nice.

All of these blemishes would be excusable, however, save one simple fact:

Maybe one time this season (Minnesota) through 11 home games, the student section has been full through all three decks. For probably another seven or eight, the students haven’t even filled up the first floor.

This isn’t a rant about the ticketing process or the red ticket packages or white ticket packages or even showing up on time.

This is a rant about just showing up. It is not that hard. You have already bought tickets to the games. Just come enjoy your end of the transaction. Really, what else are you doing at 6 or 7 p.m.? As a basketball fan myself, I am pretty sure homework doesn’t take first priority.
The games take two hours – it is not even that hard to sneak in a flask for those concerned with the limitations on their nightlife – and will get you out plenty early enough to grab a table at your favorite watering hole. Why would you not show up?

Perhaps none of this matters in the long run. Whether or not UW students have a respectable reputation as a hoops crowd admittedly ranks pretty low on any type of priority list.
But I have seen firsthand twice in my time at Wisconsin the type of impact an out-of-control crowd can have. The Badger football team rode that opening momentum to beat down then-No. 1 Ohio State this season, and the hoops team took advantage of an explosive atmosphere against Duke last year for their biggest non-conference win of the decade.

With the Badgers taking on Purdue tonight and desperately needing a win to stay involved in the Big Ten title race, it would be magnificent to see the metaphorical spirit of Jerry Garcia return once more and let Wisconsin students earn their name.
All you have to do is show up.

Michael is a senior majoring in journalism. If you show up to all of the games, obviously this column is not intended at you. If you don’t attend, but think I am a jerk for calling you out on it, yell at me at [email protected].