When Purdue’s flagging football team burst from the tunnel at Ross-Ade Stadium in the second half of its Saturday game, it found its supporters right where it had left them.
More than 60,000 onlookers applauded from still-bustling stands, hoping for the erasure of a 17-10 deficit on an afternoon that wrapped up all the best parts of fall and early November and put a bow on them: the sky was a vibrant blue and thermometers read 51 degrees.
The Boilermakers kept the mood high – they scored on back-to-back drives in the third quarter and to start the fourth, peaking when Devin Mockobee surged forward against four purple Northwestern helmets on the goal line in stiff-legged defiance.
The 60,000 roared. They stayed as the game meandered into overtime and gave them their money’s worth and then some, until finally Purdue ran out of steam at home in what was the fourth loss Ross-Ade has witnessed this year.
Karen Dockmeyer has witnessed far more. An alum with season tickets, she’s scarcely missed a home game since 1972.
“We’ve been through it all,” she said with a smile. Though she was disappointed with Saturday’s result, she said, she still got what she came for: tailgating. Parking lot parties are her ritual, and 23 of her friends also partake.
That number has been “way more,” in the past, said Kathy Elftman, standing with Dockmeyer in a parking lot to the south of Ross-Ade, as tables from hours prior were packed away.
They’ve lost a few members over the years, some to the demands of family life as frequent weekend trips have become less feasible. Others left during Purdue’s lousy decade under the leadership of Danny Hope and Darrell Hazell after him.
Now, after three winning seasons with Jeff Brohm at the helm, Brohm is gone and Purdue is back in the Big Ten’s basement. And a growing contingent of supporters in an outstanding fan base are starting to question their commitment to a program that hasn’t loved them back lately.
“Another season like this might do it,” Gary Farley growled minutes after Purdue lost on a walk-off Northwestern touchdown.
He’s now reconsidering what has long been an automatic ticket purchase; so is his friend Eric Villiger. They stuck through the Hope and Hazell years, and said Purdue’s step back is reminiscent of that time, but for one thing: There are more people in the stands now.
Boilermakers fans’ loyalty stands out among schools with similarly inconsistent football traditions. Two hours to the south at Indiana, where a 9-0 season for the ages is unfolding, fans have been less enthusiastic in dimmer times.
Last season, which the team finished at 3-9 for its third consecutive losing year, Memorial Stadium averaged 85% capacity. In Indiana’s homecoming game, there were 9,000 empty seats. Purdue sold out its homecoming game this year when it held a 1-2 record, and has topped 60,000 in attendance thrice.
Purdue fans are special, they say.
“They’re similar to the Chicago Cub fans,” said Tom Gulbrandsen, another season ticket holder. “You can have 108 years of losing and you’re still packing Wrigley Field. And I’m a Cubs fan, too.”
For people like Farley, though, Purdue doesn’t have that kind of time. An Indiana State graduate and lifelong Purdue sports fan, the degree of his support for the university extends as far as his faith in its athletics.
The Brohm years bought some time – Farley’s season ticket group of 27 was assembled in Brohm’s fourth year at Purdue. But patience is thinning.
“They need to do something, you know?” group member Susan Oxley said. Then she shrugged; “I don’t know, get rid of the coach? Like, make some changes.”
Susan’s son Logan, a Purdue grad, witnessed two of the Brohm years as a student. He also saw the tail end of Hazell’s tenure up-close.
“We’d been pretty good for a while and I think that’s carried over for a couple years,” he said. “Where, if there’s a couple years of this, then that’s gonna start to dwindle out.”
He has far more faith in the men’s basketball team, which hasn’t had a losing season in 10 years.
“I think (basketball coach Matt Painter) has bought, well, a long time,” Logan said.
It’s now going on a year since Purdue beat an FBS opponent, and when Saturday’s result was still fresh, postgame grumpiness spilled from Ross-Ade and into the streets. Walking along North Martin Jischke Drive, a college-age man dressed in gold was speaking to a friend.
He quoted from an earlier conversation, where someone had asked him if he was going to the football game. His response:
“I said, ‘What game? Because Purdue sucks.’”