a href=”https://www.dailyegyptian.com/contactus.html”bDE Staff Reporter/b/abrspan class=”realsmall”bDaily Egyptian/b/span

GeNae Welch did not take any chances.

Immediately after SIU thumped Evansville 76-64 Wednesday night, Welch, along with her best friend, Amanda Bauch, set up camp in front of Lingle Hall.

Both were determined to get their hands on at least one of the 2,000 student tickets that would be distributed at 10a.m. the next morning.

No one would be allowed inside until 7 a.m.

They were soon joined by Courtney Allensworth and seven others and by 10:30 p.m., Lingle Hall began to look like a campground.

Many thought they were crazy.

One member of the Athletic Department said after Wednesday’s game he could not understand why people would brave the frigid temperatures, which dipped as low as 25 degrees, for general admission tickets.

He found out Thursday morning.

By the time the ticket office began to give away student tickets at 9:40 a.m., about 500 people were lined up inside Lingle Hall and the SIU Arena. The line began at the ticket office and wrapped around three-quarters of the outer concourse of the Arena.

Because students were allowed to pick up as many tickets as student IDs, some picked up the maximum of 20 and most picked up at least five to eight tickets. The tickets were gone in 35 minutes and hundreds were left standing in the Arena empty-handed.

Amanda Young, a graduate student, was one of them, and she was inconsolable.

“I may cry,” Young said with a shocked expression on her face. “I’ve only missed two home games.”

Beth Isaacson, a sophomore in marketing, picked up the last 10 Dawg Pound tickets and scampered out of the ticket office as quickly as possible. She feared for her safety.

“I was just trying to get out of here before everyone mobbed me,” Isaacson said, cutting the interview short to make a quick getaway.

Isaacson had approached the window with 12 IDs and came up two short, so now she has the daunting task of deciding which two people to exclude from SIU’s biggest and most hyped game of the year.

But Welch, Bauch and the rest of the diehards had no such problems, and neither did any of the other 53 people who stayed the majority of the night on the sidewalk.

But it was a long night.

“This is easily about the stupidest damn thing I have ever done,” said Chris Todd, a junior in history and elected leader of the group at the beginning of the night.

The hardest of the hard core began to pitch their mini-metropolis at 10 p.m. At the time, it was rather primitive. They had two tents, but only one was standing. The other would be devoid of a skeleton for a few hours.

The tents did little to stop the cold; all were dressed for the occasion. The group coped with the temperature with sock caps, wool or double socks and several layers of clothes.

Freshman Eric Christensen said the cold was a small price to pay for the memory. More than anything, he wanted a great story to tell to his grandchildren.

At the time there were 10 people divided into three factions – Weberville, Warrenville and Williamsburg.

Weberville’s fans pledged undying allegiance to SIU head coach Bruce Weber and boasted a population of four. Warrenville, whose citizens were in awe of Josh Warren’s jump shot, was the residence of four proud citizens as well.

“He has such a pretty shot. We want to marry his shot,” Christenson, mayor of Warrenville.

“He gives people like me a chance. He gives every boy who has ever worn husky pants a chance, it gives me hope.”

Williamsburg consisted of Welch and Bauch, who were proud to be the only girls present for the majority of the night. They declared Kent Williams the perfect man and named their section accordingly.

Though divided by name, the groups were united by one common sentiment – hatred of Creighton and Kyle Korver.

The sentiment of the group was embodied in its leader, Todd, who hates Creighton with a passion. Profanities describing the Bluejays are present on both his voicemail and cell phone.

As the night progressed, the Creighton haters’ “population,” which was tallied on a Papa Johns pizza box, gradually rose. The box was a remnant one of the three pizzas Papa Johns donated to the frozen Saluki fans. By 2 a.m., it had 31 marks on it.

By 2:30 a.m., the group had grown to 53 fans, and they brought reinforcements to fight boredom. After finding an outlet just outside the ticket office door, a group of fans went home to fetch a few items to make the night more comfortable.

The result of the trip was a card table, a 19 inch TV, an X-Box with five games, a DVD player, a few movies, a George Foreman grill, burgers, brats, buns and a multi-outlet surge protector to allow all the devices to run at once.

The food and entertainment kept the group occupied and kept its mind off the cold until about 5 a.m. After a heated game of NBA Inside Drive and a showing “Dirty Work” starring Norm McDonald, fatigue began to set in.

Most of the group retired to the warmth of their blankets until around 6 a.m. With an hour to go before the doors would open, those who had pitched tents collapsed them and everyone packed up their blankets and began to jockey for position at the door.

Welch, who made sure everyone knew it was her 19th birthday, was first in line.

At 7 a.m., the door opened and the group of 50-plus, followed by 50 more students who had recently arrived, saw the face of Assistant Athletic Director Jason King.

King invited the freezing masses in and led them to a table with 300 donuts and bagels, red punch and coffee, compliments of the SIU AthleticDdepartment.

“Oh my God, they care!” Todd said as he entered the building.

After helping themselves to breakfast, the ticket-seekers lined up with Welch at the head of the pack. When they had taken their place in line, many began talking about the classes they were missing. Some slumped against the wall, and a few immediately went to sleep on the floor.

Two and a half hours and three television interviews later, Welch was able to step up to the ticket counter, receive her eight tickets and make a quick trip to Thompson Point before running off to her 11 a.m. math class.

It had been 13 hours.

“Thirteen hours I’ve been here, so it’s good to finally get tickets in my hand,” Welch said. “It’s time to go home and finally celebrate.”

Todd, who was about a dozen spots behind Welch, did not mince words about his intentions after one of the longest nights of his life.

“I’m planning on skipping all of my classes today for the occasion of sleep,” Todd said.

Rob Johnson, who wound up fourth in line, expressed the same exhausted sentiments.

“I’m going to bed,” Johnson said. I wish I could say I was going to Disney World, but I’m going to bed.

“It was worth it, though.”