I look down the bench and to my right sit Delco Rowley, Idong Ibok, Marquise Gray and Mo Ager. In front of us, Coach Izzo is spewing a fiery pep talk about being the best in the land.
I must have stumbled into some parallel universe where has-been high school letter-winners get to live out their unfulfilled sports fantasies.
I take a second glance at my teammates and realize I'm a good three to six inches shorter than most of these guys. That must make me the point guard. I stare determinedly at Izzo. Give me the rock. I want to take the shot. I can do it.
"Man, Coach sure is long-winded," says Shannon Brown, leaning in from behind us to talk to his teammates.
I snap out of it. I'm back to reality, a bleary-eyed fan sitting on an abused old couch in the middle of Munn field with some of the best college athletes in the country, just hoping for the opportunity to get a courtside view come November.
The guys continue to horse around as Izzo riles the crowd of potential Izzone members, sticking it to University of Michigan at every turn and, in general, spending more time drumming up support for Drew Stanton and company than Drew Neitzel and company.
The crowd of 1,800-plus campers vying for lower-bowl tickets to the upcoming MSU men's basketball season ate it up.
This whole delirium-inducing adventure began at 6:30 a.m. on Saturday as my buddy Steve and I dragged our way across campus from his East Lansing fraternity house. We arrived at Munn field just after 7 a.m. to meet a bloated line of students registering for the annual campout.
I peered to the front of the line in an attempt to determine if we were being issued work clothes or meal rations, because it felt like we were about to be interred into some sort of forced labor camp.
About an hour later, we made it through the gates and wasted no time setting up camp and settling in for a long day of lounging.
A little before noon, the Izzone directors herded us into the Breslin Center to watch the Fighting Illini get Zooked by a burn unit of Spartan wide receivers and running backs. Watching the game with a group of fervent fans will amplify even the casual supporter's homer prejudices, particularly with this group, who erupted at every mention of the words "Stanton" and "Heisman" in the same sentence, and angrily hollered at any allusion to Dee Brown or Illinois basketball.
By the time Izzo and his players wandered off and the Student Alumni Foundation staff completed their second attendance check around 11 p.m., things were starting to feel a little surreal.
Never mind that this officially-sanctioned "Izzone rush" would probably be qualified as hazing by any other student group that tried to organize a massive mandatory sit-in. The mix of sleep deprivation and regimented behavior had resulted in a goofy, almost childish camaraderie and restlessness.
At 2 a.m., a roar went up from the center of the field. Steve and I tramped over to investigate. Under the stadium lights, two walls of several hundred campers had formed on opposite sides of the open field. At the opening, a lone freshman named Alex, who either had a death wish or some kind of nervous breakdown, pedaled circles on a mountain bike and prepared to run the gauntlet. At the egging of the crowd, he charged in and the blood-hungry campers rained footballs, soccer balls and any other objects they could find at the kid - smacking him in the face, knocking him off-balance and smashing his bike. Afterward, Alex received a flurry of congratulatory back-slaps and autograph requests.
Walking back to our tent, we noticed a smoking garbage can, but on closer examination couldn't find a flame.
Welcome to the Twilight Zone.
Scratch that. Welcome to the Izzone.
Bob Darrow is The State News administration reporter. Email him at darrowro@msu.edu
