Marlon Smith wants me to make some noise.

That message was returned to sender.

In another ludicrous and stupid attempt by the Bryce Jordan Center to bring some excitement to a walking-dead men's basketball game, every section at Wednesday's game against Indiana was given a designated player for whom they were told to rise and cheer.

Seems like a good idea.

However, problems were many, to say the least.

Where to begin?

Let's start with the fact that the small crowd of fans who attended the game let out a collective moan when they learned they would have to "stand up" until Penn State scored its first basket.

The game was two minutes old, Penn State hadn't scored, and most fans used Ed DeChellis' timeout as an excuse to sit down and throw in the towel. Once they were seated, the radical idea of once again bending their knees and standing up was out of the question.

Still standing, I looked around and just couldn't take it anymore. I realized how pathetic these fans are; frankly, they're some of the worst I have ever seen.

It's flat out embarrassing and I can only imagine how other students feel who always stand during play, regardless of how lopsided the score is in the opponent's favor.

And how about the players?

Things on this night would only get worse, as one of the bigger cheers of the game came when the Nittany Lions finally dropped their first bucket, and fans could officially take their seats and return to their small bag of potato chips. Free food may in fact have been a good marketing ploy, but it wasn't worth the nearly two hours of abuse Bracey Wright inflicted.

Now, when Penn State mounted a second-half comeback and was within 10, the crowd was making some noise and almost proved to me that it cared.

False.

Fifteen seconds later, a George Leach dunk sat everybody back into their seats and quieted the crowd so much you could hear a cat meow.

The Lions' "comeback" never materialized, in case you were wondering.

Tupac wasn't "mad at ya" and I'm not mad at the players: it's more so the fans.

I'm not mad that it took Penn State nearly 12 minutes to outscore Mr. Wright.

I'm not mad that Jan Jagla shoots fadeaways against a defender he has about seven inches on, although I would love an explanation.

I can live with giving up a five-on-one fast break. How that's possible, I don't know.

I'm certainly not mad that the Fullback, also known as Aaron Johnson, is the only guy who can hit a jumper. Again, I am confused.

And the reason Dan Adler's name on the back of his jersey was quadruple that of Jason McDougald's was?

Finally, the fact that the IU bench, including coach Mike Davis at times, was laughing at the action on the floor doesn't bother me. In fact, I think it's funny and don't have a problem with a basketball team enjoying themselves -- that's what games are for.

Something Penn State's older generation of "fans" was clearly not.

It's tough being a student and showing up to cheer for a team that has less chemistry and talent than Sebastian Telfair's Lincoln High School squad.

Although the student's section was far from filled, the 600 or so tried to spur the team on.

The student section cares and, as a result, should care that nobody else does, including the 40,000 other students who choose to ignore Penn State basketball.

It's flat out embarrassing.

Albeit not as embarrassing as the usher in section 105 who has to wear a Kevin Fellows jersey, but it's pretty bad.

It's almost as bad as the kid who gave up his three free ice creams for an Illinois media guide in a Let's Make a Deal knockoff that could have earned him a $100 gift-certificate.

I won't even bring up the halftime entertainment, which left me yearning for the Rucker Park-wannabe DJ.

Having a DJ at a basketball game indoors is practically sacrilegious anyway, and just adds to Penn State's stellar basketball reputation.

In most other programs, the students are a big part of the game. The standing, yelling and verbal abuses directed toward the other team makes students the sixth man, and makes opponents fear going into their building.

Bob Knight heard chants of "Salad Tosser" when his Red Raiders traveled to Kansas last week.

While Penn State students still try, mastering a chant for when a player fouls out would be a good place to start on the road to becoming an actual sixth man. Last week, after a game in which he felt the fans did not live up to his expectations, Duke basketball coach Mike Krzyzewski called out the Cameron Crazies. Saying it doesn't matter whom Duke was playing, the energy and emotion should always make Cameron a tough place to play.

Now, for Eddie D to call out the few fans he has coming to his games would be stupid.

However, something has to be done.

These basketball "fans" need to ask themselves if they really care about this team before they make the trek out to the BJC to sit on their hands and eat overpriced food.

The older fans should flat-out be ashamed. I was embarrassed watching them, and Marlon Smith couldn't have heard much of anything in the form of positive encouragement.

Next time, it's very simple, Stay Home!