Pieces of thick blue paper sit on a white desk in the Bryce Jordan Center. The papers, each labeled with a number from one through nine, determine the weekend plans for 3,534 Penn State students.
For the students who entered the Notre Dame ticket lottery, their immediate fate comes down to the numbers pulled out of a cardboard box. Only 250 students (7 percent) will receive the opportunity to purchase tickets to Saturday's game, with the 20 who fall directly after them on an Excel spreadsheet comprising the waiting list.
If all turns out well with this process, the same lottery method will be used to select students wishing to go to the Sept. 23 game at Ohio State. The odds will be stacked higher against students for that game though, as Ohio State gave Penn State 4,000 tickets (as per Big Ten protocol) while Notre Dame allotted 5,000 to the visitors.
Entries were supposed to be in by 5 p.m., but it's 5:35 now and Paula Brown, ticket manager for Penn State intercollegiate athletics, is still trimming down the list of students. Many submitted duplicate entries, some more cunning than others. One girl entered her information more than 30 times, while others submitted multiple entries under different names -- but all with the same student number.
When the playing field was leveled, the starting number was determined by a neutral observer, pulling a single digit from the box on four different tries, resulting in the all-important four-digit starting point. At long
last, the starting number was set at 1,776.
Caitlin Latshaw happens to be the name just to the right of that number on the Excel file, and, after it is confirmed that she is a full-time student taking the minimum 12 credits, she is the first to be informed of her good fortune.
At 5:58 Greg Myford, Penn State's associate athletic director for marketing and communications, picks up the phone and dials Latshaw's number.
"Guess what," Myford says into the phone. "You were the first number selected in the lottery... Yes... No, this isn't a prank -- that wouldn't be very polite of me."
*****
Now it's 7:50 p.m. and in just over an hour, senior Adam Filer will know whether or not he is one of 250 lucky Penn State students to receive a ticket to this Saturday's Penn State-Notre Dame matchup.
His hopes aren't high.
"I just checked my e-mail, and it didn't have anything yet," he says, adding that he had checked his e-mail twice earlier. "I'm not too optimistic right now."
Time does nothing to improve his attitude.
A secondary education math major, Filer understands that his chance isn't that great. With that in mind, he's already made backup plans for this weekend. His buddy plays for the Lafayette football team, which will play Bucknell on Saturday.
If Filer doesn't get tickets, he says he will go to Lewisburg to watch his friend play after catching most of the Penn State game on TV.
Filer has purchased season tickets all four years he's been at Penn State, and his apartment is adorned with Penn State posters. His fridge has magnets that spell out "We are Penn State." In addition to this year's "Can't Wait" football poster, Filer has not one, but two, football posters from last year.
At 8:50, Filer checks his e-mail again. Nothing.
At this point, the reality that he probably isn't getting a ticket starts to set in.
"I would venture to guess most students aren't expecting to get 'em," he says.
8:59 rolls around, and Filer is reminded of the time. He says he won't check his e-mail again until 9:05, hoping that a slow e-mail system is just holding up the message.
Finally, he retreats to his room to make the final check.
As his e-mail loads, Filer hides his eyes in a joking manner.
"I can't look," he says.
Eventually he does, and when he looks at the screen, he says the three words he's been expecting all night.
"No new messages."
*****
At 8:33, sophomore Kelsey Campbell leans forward in her chair, red hair draped over her left shoulder, and wonders aloud what is taking so long.
She made hotel reservations in South Bend six months ago. And as the clock passes nine, her anticipation grows.
A soothing poster of two orange gerber daisies hangs near her desk, while a Penn State blanket sits at the foot of her bed.
The scene doesn't bring Campbell any comfort. But at 9:56 p.m., that all changes when she checks Webmail one more time.
"Yo...oh my God. I won it. I got Notre Dame tickets," Campbell says, pausing between each sentence. "I'm really surprised. I never win anything. Ever."
The excitement quickly subsides, however. She was planning to travel with up to nine other friends, but what if she is the only one lucky enough to get a ticket? She doesn't want to go by herself.
"I'll probably scalp my ticket and just go, which sounds pathetic and horrible, I know," she says. "If someone else gets a ticket to the game, I'm definitely going to go. But the chances are slim."
Campbell's boyfriend, sophomore Andrew Durante, looks on with a half-smile, foot tapping a mile a minute. He admits he is a bit jealous.
He decides to check Webmail one last time on the computer of Campbell's roommate, Ashley Suran.
"Holy [crap], that's awesome!" he yells after reading "Congratulations" in the subject line of his inbox.
"Oh God. I can't believe that just happened," Campbell says, embracing her boyfriend.
The two stare at each other for a few moments, shaking their heads, giving each other hugs and pacing around the room, searching for their cell phones to call friends and family.
Not only are they going to South Bend now. They're going to the Notre Dame game.
