Often times, Penn football is defined by what it is not, rather than by what it is. It is a celebrated tradition of excellence dating back well over a century. We hear stories all the time of the great national powers that came to play the Quakers in years past, and the throngs of fans that came here to bear witness to them.
It is the alumni who return to 33rd Street year after year, blessed with full spirits and voices -- and often wallets to match.
It is throwing toast and singing songs and endlessly taunting Princeton and Harvard, and doing these things within the historic walls of Franklin Field.
But there are many things that Penn football is not.
It is not, by any measure, a major college program. It does not attract the kinds of crowds that make Ann Arbor, Mich., Baton Rouge, La. and Knoxville, Tenn., into major metropolises on Saturdays in the fall.
It does not even attract a kind of fan base equal to the University of Delaware, just an hour's drive southeast of here in Newark, Del. The Blue Hens' stadium seats only 20,000 fans, but it is filled to capacity every weekend, and the fans expect national success every year. Often they are rewarded for their devotion -- most recently last season, when Delaware won the Division I-AA national championship.
Penn fans cannot even expect a trip to the Division I-AA playoffs. The Ivy League forbids it, claiming the postseason interferes with final exams in December.
In this context, consider this coming Saturday night, when Villanova will come to Franklin Field for Penn's 2004 home opener.
It has the potential to be a true big college football game, the first in a long time for Penn. The last one was probably two years ago, when ESPN's College GameDay came to town for the title-deciding clash with Harvard.
As with any sports team, Penn football is as important as you yourself make it.
I know quite a few fans of big-time football schools like Texas and Arkansas. Some of them are also Penn football fans, and some of them can't quite get into a game where there are 35,000 empty seats above them. Saturday night presents an opportunity to do something about that.
I also know a lot of students who have come here from other countries and can't quite get a handle on American football. Rooting for your school's team is a great way to learn about the game, and if you don't get the rules about pass interference and holding, rest assured that we don't always get them either. Complaining about referees is an international sport.
One group of people on campus that does understand the magnitude of this game is the Penn Athletic Department, which has done quite a bit to make Saturday night into a big occasion.
Saturday has been proclaimed "Community Day" at Franklin Field, and the Penn Athletic Department has placed ads to that effect in the sports section of the Philadelphia Inquirer.
The Penn Athletic Department is also giving free tickets to a number of local community organizations, according to Dan Flynn, the director of marketing, promotions and community affairs for Penn Athletics. This deserves recognition, both as a piece of charity and a way to increase awareness of Penn sports in the neighborhoods around campus.
The Penn Athletic Department has also worked to improve the parking situation for games, which has been a sticking point for fans in the greater Philadelphia region.
But while all those people might make for a big crowd, it is the students at Penn and Villanova that will really add spice to the atmosphere on Saturday night.
With a 7 p.m. starting time, there shouldn't be too many excuses for not being at Franklin Field. The weather forecast is good, and there will be plenty of time afterwards to do whatever else you want to do (responsibly, of course). If you will be breaking the Yom Kippur fast at about kickoff time, you can do it in the bleachers with a few thousand of your closest friends.
Here's hoping for a great night at Franklin Field on Saturday.
Jonathan Tannenwald is a junior Urban Studies major from Washington, D.C. His e-mail address is jtannenw@sas.upenn.edu.
