The day sugar fell

LITTLE ROCK — With the Razorbacks not in a bowl game this year, we thought we would recall much happier times for Arkansas football fans just two years ago, with this column originally published Dec. 4, 2010. It was a special day at War Memorial Stadium for a father and his son.

Sugar fell from the sky in Little Rock shortly after 6 p.m. last Saturday. You couldn’t see it, but you can bet it was there.

I glanced over at my 13-year-old son, who had yelled himself to the point of exhaustion during the previous four hours, and hoped he would remember this moment.

I could feel my eyes misting up as the memories came flooding back-memories of the drive from Arkadelphia to Little Rock in my father’s big Oldsmobile when I was a boy to attend games at War Memorial Stadium, the anticipation building with each passing mile; memories of watching the crowd simply refuse to leave following Arkansas’ victory over Texas in 1979, memories of looking over at my older son (who was 9 at the time) following the original Miracle on Markham in 2002 and hoping that he would cherish this moment.

Isn’t that one of the reasons for attending such events? We’re there not only to enjoy the moment but hopefully to create memories along the way, perhaps even picking up a new story to tell around the dinner table 10 or 20 years from now.

Arkansas’ 31-23 win over Louisiana State University last Saturday was one of those memory-making games. I’ve been attending games at War Memorial Stadium for more than 40 years and can never remember one when the fans stood for every play. We only sat during television timeouts. There can be magic in late-November games, the ones that start in the sunlight and end under the lights. As was the case after the wins over Texas in 1979 and LSU in 2002, no one wanted to leave. The stadium remained packed 10 minutes after the game had ended. I hope my son remembers that.

In the north end zone, motorcycle officers in their helmets from the Little Rock Police Department protected the goal post from being torn down. In the south end zone, the goal post was protected by troopers from the Arkansas State Police. I hope he remembers that. Coach Bobby Petrino was surrounded by troopers and television cameramen as he exited the field, smiling more than I’ve ever seen him smile. I hope Evan remembers that, too.

The weather had cooperated fully this Saturday after Thanksgiving. It was a gorgeous day for college football. We parked in Hillcrest and made the trek down Van Buren Street. I knew immediately this wasn’t an average contest when I saw people who had charged $10 to park for the Louisiana-Monroe game now charging $30. There were fans wanting tickets at the intersection of Van Buren and Markham Street. No one was selling. The policeman signaled for us to cross Markham. We walked into War Memorial Park for what would turn out to be an afternoon never to be forgotten.

I’ve never made a secret of my fondness for Little Rock games. I cherish those traditions that make our state unique, and having the state’s largest university play its home football games in two places sets us apart in an era when Alabama no longer plays at Birmingham, and Ole Miss no longer plays at Jackson. When those who favored moving all home games to Fayetteville made the argument that this was no longer done in Alabama and Mississippi, it only strengthened my resolve.

“Good,” I would say. “That’s all the more reason not to change. This makes us even more special. And since when did we start using Mississippi and Alabama as examples of how to do things anyway?”

After entering the park, we made our way to stadium commissioner Brenda Scisson’s tailgate party in the lot directly behind the new press box. I can think of few things better than this: A beautiful autumn afternoon, good friends, what promises to be a great college football game, fried chicken, pimento cheese sandwiches. An integral part of a Little Rock game day for me is the time spent watching the fans walk by. I greeted friends from all sections of our state. It is, in a sense, a large family reunion.

When it was over, after almost four hours of pressure-packed action, I looked at Evan as he joined thousands of his fellow Arkansans chanting, “BCS! BCS!” No, I’ve never been in this stadium when it was louder. We returned to Brenda’s party after the game and listened to the Hog calls, yells and whoops coming from the now-dark golf course. It was a happy night.

Remember this sweet November day, Evan. Remember that you sat between your mother and father. Remember how you screamed at the top of your lungs each time LSU came to the line, feeling as if your effort were playing a role in the game. Remember that touchdown as time expired in the first half. Remember that fourth-down play that resulted in a touchdown right in front of you in the fourth quarter. Remember the smile on the coach’s face and the fans who didn’t want to leave, staying in their seats to savor it all for a few more minutes.

Remember the day sugar fell from the sky.

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Freelance columnist Rex Nelson is the president of Arkansas’ Independent Colleges and Universities. He’s also the author of the Southern Fried blog at rexnelsonsouthernfried.com.