The Yipping Yinzers

I like Pittsburgh. The city, not the university. I lived there for four years in my mid-20’s, so I won’t resort to the childish geographical insults that always seem to pop up when discussing the revival of the Penn State vs. Pitt rivalry. I grew up in eastern Pennsylvania, attended Penn State, went to law school in Pittsburgh, and lived near Philadelphia for the past few years prior to moving out west. As a result, I love each part of the state equally. Except Erie. You know what you did, Erie.

Again, this is a response to a post over at Pitt Blather, a site which I’m otherwise unfamilar with since I don’t really keep up with the Panthers. Seems to do a very good job of covering Pitt, though.

I’m 31 years old now, so I’m on the fringe of people who are old enough to remember the tail end of PSU / Pitt rivalry. For all intents and purposes, the rivalry ended in 1992, just prior to Penn State joining the Big Ten. Temporarily discounting the four-game series from 1997-2000, the teams played each other every year from 1935 to 1992. Penn State’s record against Pitt in that time frame was 34-22-2. Of those games, approximately 2/3ds of those games were played in Pittsburgh. In fact, until the series became a “one for one” deal in the mid-70’s, 34 of the 42 games were played in Pittsburgh, with only 19% of the games being played in State College. It may seem like ancient history, but it’s important to note that Joe Paterno has been at Penn State since 1950. He remembers how Pitt treated Penn State from a scheduling standpoint, even when Pitt was routinely limping to one and three-win seasons. As a result, it’s safe to say that Joe Paterno isn’t exactly willing to do Pitt any favors when it comes to scheduling on a one-for-one basis.

Now let’s get to the meat of the Pitt Blather post. It’s clear that Penn State doesn’t need Pitt on the schedule to sell tickets. The fans will show up regardless of whether Penn State is 3-9 or 11-1. They’ll show up regardless of whether the opponent is Notre Dame or Florida International. In response to that point, Pitt Blather wrote:

It is more than easy enough to cram that many people in a stadium a few times a month for four months when you live in the middle of no where. This is Happy Valley, not New York City. There is nothing to do in central Pennsylvania other than count down the days to the next Penn State home game. Let’s look at that in comparison to the city of Pittsburgh, where on any given Saturday there are many more choices of things to do instead of see a college football game. I’m not saying the Pitt’s excuse for low attendance, but saying how great Penn State’s attendance is in comparison to our’s is absurd.

… I forget where I read this, but someone madethe point that Penn State is a state school, while the University of Pittsburgh represents a city.

Population of Pittsburgh and surrounding metro areas: 2,358,695
Population of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania: 12,281,054

So tell me, which is easier to draw fans?

Nevermind the fact that both Penn State and Pitt are state-supported. The first point is hilarious enough — that the vibrant, urban atmosphere of Pittsburgh is too distracting for a region which constantly claims it has the best high school football and professional football fans fans in the nation. Friday night? Great for football! Let’s go Ampipe! Sunday afternoon? Wouldn’t be caught dead anywhere but Heinz Field or the Clark Bar. But Saturday afternoon? My God, there’s just too much to do in Pittsburgh! Who has time for the Panthers? Everyone must be hiding out at the Mattress Factory or the Warhol Museum, judging by the empty yellow seats at the stadium.

However, back in central Pennsylvania, there’s nothing to do on a Saturday except head up to Beaver Stadium. Centre County’s population is 135,758 and Beaver Stadium’s capacity is 107,282. Talk about dedicated locals!

The second point here seems to be that the name of the school — “Pennsylvania State University” versus “University of Pittsburgh” — makes some sort of difference in attendance figures. Apparently, people aren’t allowed to attend Pitt games unless they live in Allegheny County, while everyone in the Commonwealth and beyond have no problem driving to the middle of nowhere from places like Philadelphia, Scranton, Harrisburg, Baltimore, and yes, Pittsburgh for Penn State games.

The capacity at Heinz Field is only 64,450 — it’s not the freaking Rose Bowl. 46,758 fans showed up last year for the home opener against Virginia. 49,620 for a nationally televised game against undefeated Rutgers. For God’s sake, only 55,642 people attended the Backyard Brawl against 8th ranked West Virginia — and those figures are the announced attendance! Who knows how many people were actually there. If Pitt’s own fans don’t even care about their team, why should anyone else?

Of course, Pitt Blather couldn’t resist a parting shot at the end of the paragraph:

Obviously someone has forgotten that PSU’s record from 2000-2003 was 22-26. Busy winning, indeed.

During that time, Pitt was 31-19, which almost represents their best four year run since 1980-1983 (39-8-1) — if you include Pitt’s 8-4 record in 2004 instead of their 7-5 record in 2000, they improve by one measly game. And what did Pitt do with that opportunity while their hated rivals were scraping the bottom of the Big Ten barrel? Fired Walt Harris after going 8-4 in 2004, hired Dave Wannstedt to restore The Glory Years (which truthfully only consisted of 1976-1981), and watched their football program swirl the toilet of the Big East while West Virginia and Louisville remained impossibly out of reach, and teams like South Florida and Rutgers rocketed by Pitt in the standings. Way to capitalize, Pitt.

Put plainly, in the grand view of college football, Pitt is irrelevant. To be as generous as possible, Pitt’s football program is a steaming pile of mediocrity.

I used to be of the opinion that Penn State and Pitt should play every year, in a one-for-one arrangement. It just seemed like the right thing to do, and even in the past two years I’ve argued endlessly with other Penn State fans that the game needed to be rescheduled. Yes, Penn State doesn’t have a true rival in the Big Ten, at least not a rivalry with the stature of Michigan vs. Ohio State or Auburn vs. Alabama. Still, there are a lot of big games on the schedule that balance out the lack of having That Game — USC vs. California and Tennessee vs. Florida are still big games, right? The Pitt vs. Penn State game is a fossil in terms of modern college football, no matter what Beano Cook tries to tell you. Forget Michigan and Ohio State for a moment — in terms of actual importance to Penn State fans, Pitt vs. Penn State wouldn’t rank as highly as Penn State vs. Wisconsin or Penn State vs. Michigan State. Twenty years ago, it was different. Today, Pitt hardly raises the ire of any Penn State fan born after 1970. And to head off the inevitable Pitt talking point that Penn State is afraid to play the Panthers — scoreboard. What’s to be afraid of?

Back to the scheduling practices of Pittsburgh during the early Paterno years. Pitt was the bigger dog back then. Penn State needed the game more than Pitt, so they played the two-for-one game with the Panthers. Now, the tables are decidedly turned. While I generally despise The Spreadsheet Argument when it comes to football scheduling, the fact remains that Penn State’s football program supports the entire athletic department. I certainly don’t endorse the scheduling of abject patsies like Youngstown State, Coastal Carolina, Temple, and Buffalo, but why should Penn State agree to a one-and-one deal with Pittsburgh? So Pitt can force traveling Penn State fans to buy bundled ticket packages at Heinz Field for games like Pitt vs. South Florida or Connecticut? Thanks, but no thanks. We’re selling out games regardless of who comes to town. Penn State fills a stadium with 108,837 people for a game against bottom feeding Big Ten teams like Northwestern. Pitt can barely come within 10,000 of Heinz Field’s capacity for the biggest game on the schedule.

Honestly, what’s the incentive for Penn State to throw a bone to Pitt? Re-igniting a rivalry that wasn’t important or competitive since the late 1980’s? Avenging the 12-0 Pitt victory that remains as the last game between the teams? To make their schedule more attractive?

It’s over, Panthers. The fact is, Penn State fans generally don’t care anymore. The students don’t care — most of them weren’t even born when Pitt was fighting to get into the Bluebonnet Bowl in 1987. The vast majority of fans under 40 years old don’t care. Pitt fans get tired of Penn State fans saying “look, we’re bigger and better than you, we don’t need your Napoleonic horseshit anymore.” Sorry, it’s the truth. We don’t need you. There seems to be an underlying notion among Pitt fans that getting Penn State back on the schedule would be the springboard Pitt desperately needs to regain any sort of relevance — to regain the early 1980’s glory that Pitt foolishly assumed would last forever when Danny McSniffles was quarterbacking the Panthers to eleven win seasons. Sadly, it doesn’t work that way. Here’s a hint, Panther fans: it’s not about our conference or your conference. It’s not even about our stadium or your stadium. We gain absolutely nothing by scheduling you. Not financially, not emotionally, and not in terms of recruiting. We just don’t give a shit about you, and haven’t in quite some time. Unquestionably, that’s what burns the most.

We’ve moved on. Stop acting like a bunch of whiny-assed titty babies and do the same. Take your 12-0 win at Three Rivers Stadium, hang on to those memories with all the fondness and pride you can muster, and enjoy battling UConn, South Florida, and Cincinnati for the next 20 years. It’s over.

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