Storrs



Recent conversations, message board rants and reader comments have revealed this much: Veteran UConn football season ticket holders believe the student section at Rentschler Field to be fickle, fair weather and faithless. Some paying customers intensify their positions using an adverb beginning with same letter, reiterating their disappointment with the youth of UConn.



And so, being such an inquisitive soul, I went to campus this week to talk to the kids, hoping to discover why the same students who bear such passion toward men's basketball (especially at Gampel Pavilion) are so tepid in autumn. And perhaps find some answers that will help turn Rentschler Field into a more unfavorable atmosphere for future visiting teams.



Here's what I learned: Many students wouldn't necessarily hyperventilate to refute the claim that the student section at Rentschler is indifferent. They believe it a layered inconvenience to attend the games off campus, all while watching a program that hasn't produced a winning record since 2010. It's an unfortunate combination, leaving the student section unable to inspire the rest of the crowd because they're uninspired themselves.



The students interviewed are otherwise true, blue UConn fans. One of them, Tim Fontenault, a Portland native, is a writer for the Daily Campus and more notably a faithful member of the front row at men's basketball games, jumping around like a Cameron Crazy (only much less insufferable).



Most students ride buses roughly 30 minutes to Rentschler from campus. It costs $4 per ride, a charge they wish got rolled over into the ticket prices, rather than making them spend their treasured cash. It's a 15-20 minute walk, they estimated, from the drop off point to the stadium.



"People have stopped taking the bus because they don't want to deal with all that," said Cody Milardo of East Windsor, a third generation UConn student.



"The first few years I was here, a lot people left early and they still do," said Scott Carroll, a senior from Branchville, N.J. "A big reason is because it's a 15-20 minute walk at least to get to the buses. The buses start going back at halftime if they're full.



"By the time the second half rolls around, you're so bored," Carroll said. "If I'm watching at home, I can just change the channel. At the game, it's a half-hour bus ride back. What's the point? Sports are supposed to be entertainment. That's not entertainment."



Students who drive, Carroll said, have to pay for parking, gas for 40 miles round trip and for the ticket to the game.



"College kids don't have any money," he said.



Riding the bus might be more palatable, they said, if UConn offered students a place to tailgate like the other patrons.



"You get off the bus and it's 'OK, what do we do now?'" Fontenault said. "It becomes a chore. I wish they'd set up a few tents with hot dogs and hamburgers, maybe a student cookout for the kids who ride the bus. Play a few games, toss a football around, something."



Carroll: "If they don't want us to bring our own food or drink, fine. Give us wristbands. Soda and water for the kids underage, beer for everyone over."



Fontenault recalls getting to the outskirts of Gampel Pavilion more than 24 hours in advance two winters ago, seeking the best spot for the impending ESPN College GameDay extravaganza before the Syracuse men's basketball game. Think about that passion, juxtaposed with his feelings about football:



"The last home game in our BCS year (2010), it was Cincinnati, two days after Thanksgiving," he said. "The students were home for the holiday weekend, yet the student section was packed. It was chilling. We won and we chanted 'BCS! BCS!' That's the last time I truly felt any emotion for UConn football."



Milardo: "As a freshman, you had to get inside 15-20 minutes before kickoff to get a decent seat. Now you can get there in the second quarter and be in the first 10-15 rows. … The day of the BYU game (the season opener) if you went around campus and asked 'are you going to the game tonight?' a lot of people would have thought you were talking about soccer."



There was a men's soccer game that night on campus.



That night, the Twitterverse was awash in photos of an empty football student section in the fourth period. Several season ticket holders said to me that night, "Do they know how that looks on ESPN?"



Carroll: "We don't care what it looks like on ESPN. We just want to go home."



Still, the students acknowledged that they could be the catalyst for a better atmosphere, especially in a small stadium. Example: Alumni Stadium at Boston College, with roughly the same capacity.



Former UConn women's basketball great Bria Hartley was at BC's upset of Southern Cal last weekend and called the atmosphere "crazy." Several game accounts said the stands were "shaking" at various moments in the game. And while the BC fandom is occasionally mocked, the students create a din, at least for football. Associate athletic director Chris Cameron said BC has sold 5,400 student season tickets, with most of their owners in the house Saturday. UConn, with nearly twice as many undergraduates, has sold 4,000 student season tickets.



So what's the answer? Essentially, the Connecticut program is handcuffed by the stadium's location. If you build it they will come? Not necessarily. On campus? For sure. Twenty-five minutes away? Not so much.



"It comes down to quality of play," Milardo said. "I love UConn. My grandparents went here. So did my mother. We've had pretty good crowds at Rentschler. But we're starved for more quality right now."



This is the opinion of Day sports columnist Mike DiMauro.



Twitter @BCgenius

