Bonus Post: Home Sweet Hilton
Editor’s Note: This post has nothing to do with football and will not be part of the book, but I wrote it on the airplane while flying to Lubbock and reflecting on the first game I attended in Hilton Coliseum since February 2020. I wanted to share it, and hope readers will enjoy it.
By the time the Iowa State men's basketball team played its season opener against Kennesaw State on Tuesday, it no longer felt novel to go to a live sporting event after the world began to open up. I had already attended nine Cyclone football games and a handful of other live sporting events.
Hilton Coliseum brought up a different set of emotions for me. I have been a men's basketball season ticket holder since the 2010-2011 season. It was such a normal thing to drive up to Ames on random weeknights during the winter or stop at a brewery or restaurant before or after a game on a Saturday.
On Feb. 25, 2020, my wife Paige and I headed up for the Iowa State vs. TCU game. It was a Tuesday evening.
Three days prior, the Cyclones had hosted Texas Tech. We were celebrating my dad's birthday that evening. Some years I try to plan around games and twist everyone else's arm to make my schedule work. For that that game, it didn't seem worth it. The team was not good and not playing for anything in terms of the postseason. I recorded the game to watch after dinner. Iowa State lost by 30. It was an embarrassing moment for a program that was less than a year removed from a Big 12 Tournament title.
Still, Paige and I made plans to go to the TCU game. Since it was a 6 p.m. tipoff, I left straight from work in Downtown Des Moines. I changed into my Cyclone gear before leaving the office. As I was leaving, a coworker asked if I thought Iowa State would win.
"Not really," I said, shaking my head and smiling.
On the drive up, I remember talking about how the next Tuesday's game against West Virginia would be an 8 p.m. tipoff on Senior Night.
"That will be a late one, but I still want to go," I said.
I honestly don't remember a lot of specifics about the TCU game. I am fairly certain it was a less-than-full crowd, and the game was close throughout. As the game got into the final few minutes, Iowa State had a chance to win. A handful of times, the crowd that was there came to its feet to cheer on the defense. This always feels special in Hilton. The crowd has a way of carrying the team to a win at times, and even though this team was no good and had just lost by 30, that's exactly what this crowd did.
Iowa State made enough plays to win by six.
"It was fun to see the crowd get behind the team," I texted a few friends.
As we were walking down from our seats in the southwest corner of the upper deck, I looked around. I looked up into the seats on the west end of the stadium. I had a thought that I had no idea would stick with me for so long.
When I walk out of Hilton for the last time, I wonder if I will know in the moment that it’s the last time.
The coronavirus was already in the news, and had become enough of a story that I couldn't completely ignore it. I can only imagine that's what prompted me to have this thought. Still, at that moment I hadn't changed a thing in my life and felt confident that I wouldn't need to.
The next Tuesday, March 3, I woke up not feeling good. I went to the doctor, and got diagnosed with the flu. I wasn't going to the West Virginia game after all. I watched from home with appreciation as the Cyclones came back from a double digit deficit and the crowd cheered them on (even though it was ultimately a Cyclone loss).
I had thought about going to Ames for the Iowa State women's basketball game against Baylor on Sunday, March 8. Instead, Paige and I made plans for a date day around Des Moines. Before we went out, I watched the game on television in disbelief as Ashley Joens hit the game-winning free throw to pull a major upset.
On Wednesday, March 11, I watched the men's basketball team's Big 12 Tournament game against Oklahoma State. The day had been dominated by coronavirus news and decisions, and the tournament had announced it would play without fans beginning on Thursday. That didn't even seem possible. It felt a little dystopian as I watched the game, which had fans, and tried to separate myself from my growing anxiety about the world while enjoying the game. I was distraught after ISU lost a hard-fought game by one point.
My friends had been texting continuously about coronavirus developments.
"I know nobody cares about the game right now, but I still can't help but care," I texted.
I stopped caring as I continued to check Twitter and say "Oh my gosh" as new coronavirus-related developments would be announced.
"Would you stop it?" Paige said at one point.
Then news dropped about the NBA suspending its season.
"OH MY GOSH!" I exclaimed. "The NBA just ended its season!"
The next morning I woke up feeling sick again. There was no way I was going to work after watching everything play out the night before. Little did I know that I wouldn’t return to the office the rest of the year as the work-from-home era was just around the corner. Although I never tested positive for COVID (it was very difficult to get a test in the early days), all signs pointed to me having picked it up.
By the end of Thursday, March 12, pretty much all major sports were canceled for the foreseeable future.
For the next 14 months or so, we didn't work in the office. We didn't go to games. The world changed more than I ever could have comprehended on Feb. 25, 2020, inside Hilton Coliseum. Iowa State basketball, even in a heartbreaking loss on March 11, was the last normal thing I remember about the world before it all came crashing down.
I woke up on Tuesday of the Kennesaw State game in 2021 unsure if I was even going to go. Life was busy, work was busy, I was traveling the next two weekends for football, and the world was still grappling with COVID just enough to make me take pause. Something in me told me I should be there. When my friend Chris told me he would go, it pushed me over the edge.
As we pulled into Ames, found a parking spot and walked toward the Hilton entrance, it all came back to me. It felt so normal, like it had been just yesterday since we had done this. And yet I couldn’t help but think about the last time I had been there, and how different the world had felt at that point.
As we walked in, the game had just tipped off. While walking up to our seats, Iowa State scored a basket. The crowd cheer almost knocked me over.
"I had forgotten how loud that could be," Chris said.
A little while later, I was again walking up the stairs after buying food from the concession stand when the crowd let out a "Booooo!"
"I’ve missed a good Hilton boo," I said.
The game wasn't one to remember, but the team showed hustle, and the crowd (myself included) gave a few standing ovations. Chris and I reminisced during some of the downtime about some of our favorite Cyclones of the past 11 years of having tickets. We clapped to the fight song. Iowa State won. It all just felt right.
I don't know when it will be the last time I ever walk out of Hilton. I'm 34 years old, so I very much hope it's not anytime soon. I learned a lesson from Feb. 25, 2020: Enjoy every good moment as much as you can, and don't take anything for granted.
