In an era where college football head coaches are paid $10m, players wear chains that cost more than an average worker makes in a year, and young men preach loyalty from their third transfer portal stop, sometimes it’s worth reminding yourself what the game used to feel like.
That’s how I found myself in Grand Junction on a Saturday afternoon, standing in the shadow of the Bookcliffs, to watch Colorado Mesa take on the South Dakota School of Mines. The Mavericks vs. the Hardrockers (yes, really). It was football at the D2 level: a pastiche of bake sales, cheap beer, and families watching their sons play football for one reason — the love of the game.
No TV timeouts, no videoboard imploring fans to GET LOUD!, no incessant playing of Mo Bamba or Fein. This is football at the DIY level.
We parked two hours before kickoff in a lot just outside Stocker Stadium. Parking was free – yes, free – a detail that should immediately be commemorated with a historical marker. A few tailgates were already rolling. The soundtrack was Morgan Wallen and Garth Brooks.
The Hardrockers are known for their tailgating culture. At their home field in Rapid City, one entire side of the stadium is lined with rows of cars, called ramps, and fans tailgate at their cars for the entirety of the game. It looks like a deleted scene from the movie Cars. They brought that tailgating spirit to Grand Junction. A group of 35 or so Hardrockers set up a tailgate that included forty pounds of pulled pork and more beer than I could quantify. Engineers love their barbeque sauce. I was also informed of a cheer that was making the rounds in Rapid City, used when South Dakota Mines is on defense. “Rock Hard D! Rock Hard D! Rock Hard D!” I blushed.
Meatball sandwiches, breakfast burritos and BBQ on the pre-game menu.
At our tailgate party hosted by a fantastic Colorado Mesa family, two redshirt players ambled over with a stack of game programs. “Do you want to buy one? Five bucks. All proceeds go to the team’s scholarship program.” Could you imagine Travis Hunter and Shedeur Sanders walking through Franklin Field before kickoff trying to sell game programs?
Fifteen minutes before kickoff, we bought tickets from the stadium box office. $10 for general admission, $15 for reserved seats. We sat with Colorado Mesa parents and friends near the 50-yard line for the first half before changing sides to sit with South Dakota School of Mines parents and friends in the 2nd half. The 2nd half offered a view of the Grand Mesa in the distance. In both locations, we could see the whole field and hear the linemen’s pads crack against each other.
The Colorado Mesa women’s tennis team and lacrosse team held a bake sale and raffle at the game. Members of the teams trudged up and down the stadium’s steps with wicker baskets of cookies and muffins. It was charming and honest. At this level, every dollar counts.
Cookies courtesy of the Colorado Mesa tennis and lacrosse teams
For new readers, I’ve become tuba-side-of-the-internet-famous for a theory on the minimum number of tubas needed in a college marching band. The Cliff’s Note version is that answer is 16, as detailed below:
But after seeing the Colorado Mesa Marching Band, I’ve decided we need a corollary to the general rule. In Division 2 football, the minimum number of tubas needed in a marching band is 5. And Colorado Mesa, in classic D2 exuberance, blew right past this limit, with 8 tubas in the band!
And friends, their band was fantastic. Better than 90% of the Division 1 bands I’ve seen. During halftime, they played a Mortal Kombat-themed-medley that somehow featured Batman squaring off with the tuba players. In the 2nd half, they took turns crowdsurfing individuals up and down the sideline while the band played the Superman theme song. Grade A stuff.
By the end of the night, as the sun dropped behind the Grand Mesa and the stadium lights came on, I thought about why “big time” college football bothers me these days. It’s not that the game has changed — it’s that the reasons have.
But in Grand Junction, under smaller lights and before a crowd of maybe 5000 true believers, the reasons were still pure. No one was angling for the draft, or an NIL deal, or a viral highlight. They played because the game still mattered. You could see it in Colorado Mesa’s right tackle, Zach Dibella, flattening a defensive end with the joy of a man that loves contact. You could see it in South Dakota Mines defensive end Ethan Williams, who wrapped up a ballcarrier like it was personal, and in special teamer Griffin Taylor, sprinting 50-yards just to make a play that wouldn’t show up on any stat sheet.
And as the tubas blared their last notes and the bake sale cookies disappeared, I stood there thinking: D1 college football has lost a lot of what makes college football the best sport on the planet.
After the final whistle, family and friends drifted down onto the field. Mothers hugged sons, fathers clapped shoulders, and players from both teams laughed about the trash talk that already felt like ancient history. Then, slowly, the South Dakota Mines busses fired up their engines. Eleven hours back to Rapid City. No charter flight. Just a long drive home through the mountains.
A small price, really, when you play for the love of the game.
If you want to read more in the BuffsBlog blogosphere, check out this story on a family’s weird theory about the CU Buffaloes and the Denver Broncos:
Bravo.
Thanks Max!
Really wonderful writing and spectacular insight.
Thanks Pete!
We are CU season ticket holders but our daughter goes to South Dakota mines, and we’re going to be on the ramp this Saturday with her and a dozen or so of her friends. We’ve been several times and we plan on going several more before she graduates. It’s a wholly different time and place for college football, and if it wasn’t for Prime and the hope of better days we would have given up the CU tickets and bought our own ramp spot. Spot on reporting, keep up the good work!
I’m going to try to get to a South Dakota Mines game next year.
D and L, we’ll be on the ramps, spot 65 with a huge tailgate spread, stop by.
Sounds like a great time.
I can see a single 36-team super conference which essentially a farm system for the NFL. Any program on the outside of 36 (or whatever number) will drift back toward the experience you shared. That is the type of football that will recapture my interest.
I think the cutoff will be more than 36, but I think programs could decide to pull a University of Chicago and move their teams down a level or two.
Great read. Sounds like a great time
Thanks Vince!
John! WOW! You really captured our Hardrocker football experience! This post on the Buffs Blog completely captures our Hardrocker football experience! You literally brought me to tears thinking about what an amazing journey it has been for Connor, Griffin, Paul and me and how much I live going onto the field after the game and hugging the players! Thank you for writing this heartfelt version of what college football can be!
Now you have to come to a real Hardrocker tailgate at home in Rapid City!
Thanks Kim – appreciate the kind words!!!!
Excellent as always John, love you’re writing and you captured the spirit of D2 football! Look forward to hosting you at the 141st Black Hills Brawl next year under the lights!
Awesome – looking forward to it!
My wife teases me every week when I hook up the HUDL broadcast of the South Dakota Mines football game to my computer and turn on the live stream an hour before kickoff. I sit there waiting to see Jarin Allen (#4), and his roommates — Griffin Taylor (#89) and Matt Bohy (#32) — along with the rest of the team I’ve watched over the past three years. I love seeing them run out of the locker room, take the field, and warm up.
Even after all these years, I still get nervous — forty years removed from my own college football days. The smell of the grass, the sound of the crowd — it all brings it back. Watching my son and his friends live out the dream of playing college football is something special.
Division II football isn’t about NIL deals or big sponsorships; it’s about the love of the game. It’s about heart, hard work, and pride. Even after a tough loss, like the one against Mesa, I still walk down to the field proud — proud to tell my son once again that I love him, that I’m proud of him, and that I’ll drive any distance to watch #4 play. Every week, I get to see (#4 poetry in motion) — and there’s nothing better than that.
Love it Orrin. Thanks for sharing.
Heck yeah sir!!
Ditto Orin! Our boys have something special happening and it isn’t just on the field. Come November I am exhausted from traveling every weekend and the 100,000 miles I have put on my car over 5 seasons watching Connor, Griffin and their best buddies play, but I wouldn’t trade 1 minute of it! GO ROCKERS!
Me too! There is talk D2 gets a 5th year. I think it’s on the table for January. I would love that. Honestly I’d love Jaden to be a Rocker too!
This is true college football and you captured the heart and soul of “the why” these players love to play the game. I would watch a Division 2 game anytime over the hype and costly expense of a Division I game! Thanks for highlighting football at its finest!!
Thanks Brenda!