109,901. The House That Yost Built. The Corner of Stadium and Main. Michigan Stadium.
The Big House.
The largest football stadium in the country just so happens to be a block down the street from where I've lived the past three years. And this is something I am well aware of. Fridays in the fall are a nightmare because by dinnertime my street is a parking lot of people in town for the game, and when giving directions to visiting family members I can say "go straight until you see the giant football stadium come out of nowhere and take a right."
But to truly appreciate the history and significance of the venue, one must trespass into it, right?
Number 16 on my countdown of college memories: breaking into The Big House.
I forget the details of how we got started, but it was a mission forged by me, Julie, and Ginger the night before Julie's 20th birthday (and the night before the night before my 20th birthday). Based on similar adventures Julie and I went on, I'm sure the conversation went something like this:
Zach: What are we doing tonight?
Julie: I dunno. Wanna break into the Big House?
Zach: No.
Julie: Yes.
Zach: Fine.
It's something of a right of passage, I think; at least that's what I tell my younger friends now. I've heard stories of people having to climb walls or being locked out, but for the three of us, it was actually really easy. Julie and Ging lived, at the time, just as close as I did and we were at their house. We walked over, surveyed the building, and found a potential way in through a revolving gate door. The problem was, the door only went in one direction: out. So that wouldn't work. Then one of us - I want to say it was Julie - found a padlock that hadn't been locked. We walked right in, no problem.
We didn't really have a clear plan for what to do once we actually got inside, but decided the proper thing was to go take pictures of ourselves on the block "M" at the 50-yard line. You know, so we had proof. We ran down the steps (which is surprisingly exhausting) and jumped down onto the field. Ginger stayed in the seats, because she was scared of getting into trouble or something (which is odd because I've caught Ging in a few situations a little worse than this...but more on that later).
However, me being the technological genius that I am, I couldn't figure out how to get the flash to work on my camera with the timer, and so all the pictures we took were dark and you can barely see anything. We would have taken more, but we heard a gate slam shut and thought someone had somehow seen us entering the stadium and was coming to chase us out. Or worse, discipline us.
So we bolted back up the stairs (which is unsurprisingly even MORE exhausting), hid in an archway while we waited to make sure the coast was clear, then sprinted out through the one-way revolving gate door. Just then, a car was driving by. We hid in some bushes and watched the lights get closer and the vehicle pass. It was a cop. To this day, I don't know why they were driving by. I'm sure it was just a coincidence, but the .00008 percent of me that is rebellious likes to think it was because we set off some kind of alarm in the stadium and the police were coming for us.
The adventure was not the success it could have been. But totally worth it nonetheless. I'll always be able to say "I broke into the Big House."
No comments:
Post a Comment