Even before the Spartans’ inconceivable loss to the Wolverines, students poked, pried, pushed and cussed their way into the stadium — not to harass rivals, but to get a seat.

For those that missed out on the madness, let me paint a picture for you:

As this was my final Spartan football game as a senior, I was very hyped about seeing the entire game — from the unfurling of the giant American flag and flyover to “Thunderstruck” — I wanted to witness it all.

During past games, if my roommate and I didn’t leave at least 30-45 minutes before the game, we knew we’d be doomed to the upper deck.

No way that was happening for this game. So we cut ourselves off from the tailgates that were still trucking and trudged to the stadium at 2 p.m. — a whopping hour and a half before kickoff.

But I knew the stakes. I wasn’t looking to sit in the first row or even a particular section — I just wanted in. Well, so did everyone else. As people crammed toward the narrow gates from every angle, each individual, organized line became obsolete. It was war against everyone, no matter who they were rooting for.

Students at the back of the line would push people in front of them, prompting everyone in the front to push back. I’m not one for mosh pits, but when I have eight people shoving me, I’m going to shove back. Short, petite girls had the advantage — they could squeeze through without anyone noticing (except me of course, I’m not that nice) and magically end up 10 people away from getting a ticket.

All the while, inflatable spears were poking and batting the backs of heads, drunks were stumbling on total strangers’ shoulders and 40-year-old men were trying to blend into the sea of college students.

But all my observations and frustrations don’t add up to being pissed at the student body. Instead, I kept thinking back to the handful of U-M games I attended where I walked to the stadium 20 minutes before kickoff, strolled in the gates, made my way to my seat and never encountered a shred of struggle to do so.

Sure, blame the 12,000-plus MSU students for their barbaric means of getting a decent seat with their friends before kickoff, but I find it hard to believe anyone would resort to shoving and swearing if they didn’t have to wait at least an hour to get into the stands.

There’s one word that best describes the system of acquiring a ticket and snagging a sliver of bench in the student section.

Ridiculous.

As if U-M students needed another reason to be thankful that they go to school in Ann Arbor, it takes them less than half the time to get to their seats in the Big House, which holds more than 30,000 more people than Spartan Stadium.

You can blame the structure of the stadium and you can blame the students, but I blame the system.

There’s got to be a way to corral everyone into the game that won’t be detrimental to anyone’s safety — as pushing people and their buttons isn’t going to end pretty — or take longer than the time it takes Rachael Ray to whip up a three-course dinner.

I go back to U-M only because they do have a system that works. By giving students assigned seats, they know where to go and who they’ll be with.

Assigning people to sections by classes, similar to the way the Izzone used to be set up, also could work for football.

Considering I’m not even attending the last game this year, I could say I don’t care whether the ticket system gets revamped or not.

But as a Spartan and soon-to-be Spartan alumna, it really does matter to me. The harder we make it for people to be fans the less likely they will be one.

Fewer fans equals less pride. And less pride, well, that’s just not very Spartan.

Kate Polesnak is a State News columnist and the food and fitness reporter. Reach her at polesna1@msu.edu.