Autzen Stadium: The good, the bad and the popcorn

Saturday’s Oregon Ducks game against Montana State will mark the 40^th year I’ve attended football games at Autzen Stadium. I’ve seen the good, the bad and the ugly.

I’ve seen Oregon beat the likes of Ohio State, Michigan and USC, and lose to the Huskies 70-21 (2015).

I’ve been part of the largest Autzen crowd — 60,129 for Ohio State last year — and the smallest, 10,500 in 1975 when UO beat Utah to end a 14-game losing streak.

I’ve baked in 90-degree heat, bundled in 35-degree cold and stayed until the last play of a Cal game one Saturday night when it rained so hard the aisles became waterfalls.

Given such perspective, I thought I’d offer you the top 11 things I like about football games at Autzen followed by the top 11 things that need improvement — the 11, of course, representing the number of players each team fields.

The best 11 things about the Autzen experience

(In no particular order)

The sound of the band warming up on Saturday mornings. I can hear the horns and drums from my house, a mile northeast of the stadium. It is a subtle precursor, a trickling of water that portends the sound and the fury to come.

Twilight at night games when sunset pinkens the western sky and infuses the Coburg Hills with a golden glow. Never mind that announcers sometimes mistake the hills for the Cascades, it’s the nirvana of football nuances.

The walk to the stadium from campus on the Frohnmayer Pedestrian/Bicycle Bridge. “Over the river and through the woods …” Granted, I haven’t done it in years — I now walk to games from our house — but the parade of fans teems with energy and expectations. I love the splash of colorful fans against the muted earth tones of river and trees.

The way the same Eugene police officer, as we walk into the parking lot, traditionally catches a pass from one of my grandsons and throws him a pass. Thank you for your service — and your accuracy.

The elegant curves of Autzen’s rim. Aesthetically, the stadium blends well with its surroundings. Few sharp angles. Smooth curves. Wonderful symmetry, if not quite complete (see “To improve”).

Announcer Don Essig’s traditional “It never rains at Autzen Stadium” line. It never gets old.

The friendliness of the folks working the concession stands. Volunteer groups trying to make a buck for their organizations exude a certain hometown spirit that I find meaningful. They’re fun. Fast. And friendly, sometimes breaking into go-Ducks chants. The former head of concessions, Eric Brandt, used to tell me that when he’d go to concessionaire conferences — yes, such gatherings are a “thing” — the folks from USC were incredulous that UO could muster dozens of folks for the task. “We have to pay our people,” they said.

“Coming Home (Oregon).” This music video by former Eugene resident Mat Kearney plays after the first quarter and draws Duck fans together in a special way. Not quite as stirring as Crosby, Stills & Nash singing “Our House” at the Cuthbert Amphitheater, but a close second.

“Shout.” A more raucous crowd pleaser in part because the song, from the movie “Animal House,” is more upbeat than Kearney’s and occurs after the third quarter, when the Ducks are usually leading and fans are feeling particularly jazzed.

The Duck mascot. You can’t downplay its contribution, especially in how it emerges with some quirky costume accent at the start of the game. No two are the same. Attention to detail matters, and the Duck’s handlers teem with creativity in letting the mascot do its thing. Never mind the occasional flop, like when, during a test skydive for College GameDay in 2012, the mascot’s head detached during the jump.

Fans allowed on the field five minutes after the game is over. This tradition goes back more than three decades and is usually a festive post-win celebration. Since 1989, when Oregon football began getting good, the Ducks are 178-93-5 at home (.656) and since 2009, 87-11 (.888). How cool that my sons got to play pickup games of football on the turf as kids, and their kids have been able to do the same.

11 ways to improve the Autzen experience

Organize the concession lines under the south grandstands. The long lines jut from concession stands on both sides of the space and make east-west travel next to impossible. Do like Disneyland: wrap concession lines in a back-and-forth parallel style with steel posts and chains. If you can afford waterfalls at your stadium, certainly you can afford $50,000 worth of people-channeling devices to compress the lines and allow for the flow of folks not in line.

Include French fries at all major concession stands. As it is, you don’t even stand a coin’s-flip chance of the delight. “Oh, we don’t carry fries here,” you’re told after a 20-minute wait. “You’ll have to go to that stand over there.” Shameful.

Offer a new and improved brand of popcorn. Over the years, the quality has slipped to the point where I’d be hard-pressed, in a taste test, to tell you whether I’m eating popcorn or plastic packing chips. Oregon State’s popcorn at Goss Stadium at Coleman Field last spring was an eye-opener — and a taste-bud delight. Sheldon High School games offer a better variety than UO. Given popcorn’s status as a sports-event staple, the Ducks must upgrade their popcorn or risk becoming a Big 10 laughingstock.

Consistently show replays on the video screen. It’s simple. Unless the offense is in hurry-up mode and it’s not feasible, show every play. And show controversial, reviewable plays over and over. As it is, you get some replays but not all. And those in control seem loath to show controversial calls as we await the “further review.”

Enact a “two-strikes-and-you’re-out” policy for belligerent drunks. Nobody has a right to ruin the experience of other fans by f-bombing, one-finger-waving and brawling. If people in a section complain to a security guard, the culprit should get a warning. If they repeat the behavior, send them packing.

Turn down the music. At the risk of sounding like a 71-year-old curmudgeon, I’d love to see — love to hear — the volume decreased. I can’t imagine many fans returning from games grumbling about the music not being loud enough, but I know plenty of fans who say they showed up to watch football, not get their ears exploded by sound grenades.

Require at least a touch of yellow — not gold, which isn’t a school color — in every uniform. Look, I’ve gone from old school to new school on the Duck uniforms; I’ve learned to like even the “highlighter yellow” and all-black look. But green and white makes us look like Portland State, Michigan State or Marshall. All-white makes us look like Anybody U. Exploit the yellow, even if it’s in piping on the numbers or a splash here and there. (See Bucky Irving’s yellow neckerchief a few years ago against an all-white uniform. Beautiful!)

Upgrade the Wi-Fi. It’s almost always balky. The technology exists to improve it, and if money is a factor, use the increased revenue that better popcorn will generate.

Limit to two minutes the time it takes the replay booth to review and rule on calls. If officials can’t figure it out in that amount of time, let the call stand. While you’re at it, limit commercial timeouts to the same two-minute limit. I know, I know, TV runs college football. But TV has no product unless universities allow them to show their football games. Nobody shows up at Autzen to watch some guy walk out onto the field during timeouts with an electronic clock to show us how we’re having to wait nearly 3 minutes for commercials to conclude. So draw a line in the artificial turf. Two-minute max.

Paint over the sand-colored paint along the outside stadium rims with what’s the obvious go-to backdrop at the football complex: black. The tan looks as out of place as a wall phone at an Apple convention. And it clashes with the black Moshofsky Center and Hatfield-Dowlin Complex.

Finally, expand the north grandstands to mirror those on the south and return the stadium to the complete symmetry it had before the 2002 south-stands addition of 12,000 seats and 32 luxury boxes. Imagine 12,000 more seats at about $100 a seat — that’s more than a million bucks per game — plus new sky boxes that would fetch at least that or more. A visual and economic win. And if you’re concerned about demand, remember: “If you build it, they will come” — especially if the popcorn gets an upgrade.