A group of four guys — shirtless and holding beers — tracks down ISU Police Capt. Gene Deisinger as he makes his way through the throngs of tailgaters in the grass lots.

“Hey, you got any wristbands?” says one.

“That depends,” Deisinger says. “Are you of good moral character?”

The quartet assures Deisinger that they are, and, after checking the identification of those holding beer to make certain they are of legal age, he bestows upon them a symbol of ISU Police approval: a black plastic wristband.

“Anybody wearing these represents my department,” Deisinger tells the men. “That means they need to show good behavior and support the team.”

It’s a choice, he tells them. Those who have come to the grass lots to the south of Jack Trice stadium to have fun and support the team are welcome, and he’s happy to give them a token of support for their behavior.

But for those who have come to make trouble, he says, he has another type of bracelet — the shiny metal pair he carries on the back of his belt.

Throughout the morning of the first ISU home football game, Deisinger’s use of the plastic wristbands far outpaces his use of the other set.

By all accounts — from Deisinger, Dean of Students Pete Englin, Vice President for Student Affairs Thomas Hill and others — things aren’t as bad this year. Before the game against Northern Iowa starts, there are only a few incidents, most involving underage possession of alcohol.

Aside from an incident in which a man was sold a counterfeit ticket in Lot B2, almost every incident comes from lots G2 and G3 — the grass lots across Elwood Drive from the stadium.

So it’s no coincidence that most of Deisinger’s morning is spent threading through the crowds there. But his presence, he says, is not meant to be one in which Big Brother is watching.

“Our goal is to engage people in helping us solve problems, not to generate tickets or arrests,” he says.

As Deisinger makes his way through the lots, he sees a number of illegal activities.

Many of the people who he encounters are either intoxicated or getting there.

At one point, Deisinger finds two men urinating in a ravine behind the lots 10 feet away from a row of portable restrooms. But throughout this, he maintains a charitable demeanor, quicker to engage the person or persons in discussion than to bring out the silver bracelets he’s warned others about.

It seems to work. A man wearing an obscene T-shirt is asked to turn it inside out to get a bracelet, and does so with no objection. Near the spot where a man and woman had sneaked into the woods for undetermined purposes, another man engages Deisinger about the fallout of the April 18 Veishea riot. Another asks him about the recent controversy of having police liaisons in dorms, a situation which Deisinger said has been blown out of proportion.

“This is the most hospitable police presence we’ve had in years,” says tailgater James Kraschel, senior in management. “It seems like they’re trying to rectify themselves since Veishea.”

Deisinger and Kraschel speak for several minutes about the liaison program, after which Kraschel offers Deisinger a bottle of water, which the officer, having spent two hours in the sun traversing the lot, gratefully accepts.

“That’s what it’s all about,” he says. “Dialogue. He was able to challenge me intelligently about something he felt strongly about. We’re trying to build communication with students, tell them about our institution, not just arrest them.”

At 1 p.m., the game has started inside the stadium, but there is no noticeable decline in the population of the grass lots. This, Deisinger confesses, irks him. Although he, while pursuing his graduate studies in Ames, never really had the time to hang out in the lots on game day, he has had experience with it. Growing up in Wisconsin’s “Packer Country,” Deisinger spent a good amount of time near Lambeau Field in Green Bay.

“For us, it was a time with family and friends, to share excitement and support the team,” he says. “That’s my biggest disappointment out here, is with the people who aren’t going in to support the team.”

By the time Deisinger returns to the tent, he sees that the day has not passed without the use of the other type of wristbands.

A man and a woman sit in the tent in handcuffs, awaiting a ride on the Story County prisoner transport. The woman is weeping furiously.

“Anytime you have a major event that draws 40,000-plus people, the likelihood of having to take enforcement actions is going to be there,” Deisinger says. “But by and large, I found the crowd spirited and respectful.”

ISU police reported 20 tailgating-related arrests or citations before 5 p.m., most of them originating from lots G2 and G3.