As time ran out during Penn State's win against Nebraska, a late Cornhusker drive wasn't the only movement in Beaver Stadium.

Police officers casually strolled onto the field, taking position in front of the student section facing the field. While they weren't threatening, their point was clear -- don't try to rush this field or be prepared for the consequences.

It wasn't always like this.

In 1982, after Penn State defeated Nebraska in an epic game much closer than Saturday's blowout, students took to the field, jumping the fence and tearing down the goalposts.

There was no great uproar about security concerns or how to contain the unrest that was sure to follow downtown. Of course, there was no need to break out the riot gear; the Nittany Lions had just won. This was time for celebration, and what better way to show support for your team than upending the uprights?

This wasn't exactly groundbreaking post-victory pandemonium. Rushing the field, or for that matter basketball court, has long been something college kids wait for with eager anticipation. Just look at the University of South Carolina, where students rushed the field and carried off the uprights after the first three home wins under head coach Lou Holtz in 2000.

And in '82, the party didn't stop with the goalposts being uprooted. Instead, the goalposts were paraded up and down College Ave. as a precursor to the elation that came later that year after Penn State coach Joe Paterno won his first national title.

"I've never seen anything quite like the celebratory mood of the spectators," longtime Penn State radio announcer Fran Fisher said. "Nobody wanted to leave, including the students, and they were very controlled ... it was very peaceful."

Not to be confused, that wasn't the last time the goalposts left Beaver Stadium. In 1990, after the Lions erased a 14-point deficit in South Bend to defeat then-No. 1 Notre Dame, students back in State College marched on the field, tore the posts down and deposited them on Joe Paterno's front lawn. While no one's sure how much Paterno's wife Sue enjoyed the surprise lawn adornment, it at least showed the students were paying attention.

Now fast forward to Saturday night.

Despite a few sporadic chants of "rush the field," only two guys actually made the leap onto the playing surface. Both were pepper-sprayed and cuffed promptly.

This is the reality of modern life at Penn State. Students leaving the stands en masse to dance with the players and cheerleaders after a win won't happen anymore. And it's sad.

In the wake of the ArtsFest riots in the summer of 1998, and the subsequent disturbances (people standing in the street yelling doesn't constitute a riot; there needs to be either a fire, looting or a police helicopter), the authorities-that-be have made sure there will be no student uprisings. As a result, last season following Penn State's win over Northwestern on the road, police dispersed the crowd that gathered in Beaver Canyon to chant the always incendiary, "We are Penn State."

Then of course, there is the greater issue of security in the post-9/11 world, in which every explosion or unknown powder triggers suspicion and fear. If students need to have their IDs checked going into the stadium for fear of what they could be bringing inside, the idea of having random people grabbing at Paterno, the players, or other coaches won't go over very well.

And yes, some of the riots were out of hand, and some goalpost incidents have gone awry, such as when students tried to repeat the 1990 tear-down in 1997, and after finding the Stadium locked, tore down a set of uprights on an intramural field, damaging cars in the parking lot in the process.

Nevertheless, what has happened in the past here is blown out of proportion. There's never been anything like what happened last year after Maryland students destroyed their campus after the Terrapins won the NCAA basketball title.

The problem is everyone always assumes the worst whenever students decide to get excited at times when excitement seems appropriate, then immediately call in the cops (who, for their part, have done a good job of not being overly aggressive during recent incidents). Perhaps what needs to happen is the students have to be given the opportunity to show that they can enjoy a win without hurting anyone, including themselves.

More importantly, if the Lions keep up their winning ways and a victory over Michigan State on Nov. 23 earns them a spot in a major bowl game after two losing seasons, the authorities better know where they stand, because the students will come over the rails and onto the field in pursuit of those uprights. And if the police are not careful, it will get ugly.

"God knows I wouldn't want to do anything to somehow dampen the student's enthusiasm," Fisher said. "As long as it's part of a celebration and they're controlled I don't see anything wrong with it ... it's a part of college for Gosh sake."