It’s a funny thing, football. It drives people mad if they watch it, and it drives those that don’t watch it mad. There’s a sort of mania that goes on with football, especially college football, especially college football with intrastate rivals.

Saturday, for the love of football, I drove to Iowa City. I didn’t have tickets to the game.

I wanted to watch it. Granted, I realize it’s sort of crazy to drive over two hours to see some people run around on a TV screen and drink beer in a bar full of people that hate the sight of the words on the shirt I’m wearing, but I did it anyway.

But there’s no fun in sitting here where you can’t chant to Iowa fans about how much they suck.

Some people don’t understand it. I didn’t. I never understood why people got so crazy over a stupid game. What did it matter that the ref flagged us, when we were already losing anyway? Why scream “Iowa sucks” to a bar full of Iowa fans? How immature. How stupid.

Being so insane about football is a waste of time. I could be doing better things than painting my face and getting wasted during tailgating.

Why should I get up at the butt crack of dawn to see guys run around a field?

I can’t think of any better entertainment than sitting in a bar with some friends, making my voice go hoarse by screaming “ISU, ISU, ISU” while there’s a glimmer of hope that we’ll do well. It’s fun, for lack of a better explanation.

The rivalry runs deep and the passion to love something with other people is innate.

I’d willingly get up in the wee hours to make it to Iowa City or anywhere in time. It’s the same rationale as tailgating. This is what college is about. Not making sacrifices for grades as much as making sacrifices for the ability to bond, drink while doing it, and enjoy yourself for the one afternoon you’re not listening to a boring lecture.

So, I wandered around the Ped Mall in the good old concrete that is Iowa City. It’s true, you know, football unites people.

I got cheers and jeers for wearing an Iowa State shirt. The whole city was teaming with gold, black and cardinal. But they weren’t segregated; there were friends from different schools, coming together to hate each other for a couple of hours.

It’s entertainment to watch the watchers of the game. The girls that spend hours and hours cutting up, sewing and tying shirts to make the bland T-shirts they sell at university bookstores interesting, the guys that become depressed if their team isn’t winning, the chants, the screams, the songs that motivate a crowd.

There’s a gross beauty to it.

After almost four years of college, I get it. I understand the love of football and I sort of understand the game itself. I know the pride of being from Iowa State, the need to beat Iowa at one more thing.

It’s a gorgeous mania.

The United States always does things bigger and better, and we’ll always be some of the best fans. Of course, ISU fans are the cream of the crop.