By Mike Gibson
You don’t know who long I’ve waited to write this or see this in print.
TEMPLE SEASON TICKETS SOLD OUT!!!
Well, they are.
At least for two sections.
I was told today that sections 120 and 119 are sold out.
Season tickets in 121 and 118 are also going at a very brisk rate.
I will be sitting on the 45-yard line, in section 121.
As most of you know, Temple moved over to the “sunny” side of the field from its “home” side since the nation’s best football venue became its permanent home in 2003.
That led to a lot of ignorant people writing on mostly MAC message boards saying things like, “No way there were 30,000 people there. I watched on TV and there was nobody there.”
Dude, TV shoots the “visitor’s side” of the field exclusively (the cameras are all set up that way) and, if there was nobody there, that’s your fault, not ours.
The empty seats belonged to Kent fans or Miami fans or Central Michigan fans.
The 30K on the Temple side were unseen by people watching on TV. Despite repeated complaints to the television people to shoot the Temple side, they all wrote back saying it would be too costly to move the permanent camera spots.
So Temple moved its fans.
Now they will be right there for all to see.
And, once the Owls start winning, the other side will fill up, too.

By Mike Gibson
The following story appeared in Sports Illustrated after Temple’s 13th-straight win in 1974.
Written by Ray Kennedy, it was entitled, When playing Temple, Pray.
It might not be long before the folks on the Owls’ schedule adopt that motto once again.
The comparisons between the way Wayne Hardin built a program that won at the time was a national-best 14 straight games _ only a missed chip shot field goal at the buzzer prevented them from winning 15 or more straight games _ and the way Al Golden is building the program now are eerily similar.
Here are some of the quotes from that SI story:

“Forget all that old business about desire, dedication and do or die. Temple ‘s Wayne Hardin has hit on a new formula that seems as simple as it is surefire. Take one heavy dose of loneliness. Mix well with a dash of rejection and disillusionment. Stir in a few assorted longings—for a clean pair of socks, say, a cold beer or a faraway girl friend—and presto! You’ve got a 13-game winning streak.

Or ….

“You don’t have to go far away to grow up. You can live on campus like I did. There won’t be any parents here bugging you. And whenever you want to you can shoot home for a good meal, hit dad for a couple of bucks and, what was very important for me, drop off a bag of laundry. Your parents have raised you for 18 years and they love you, and they deserve to see you play. You run off somewhere where nobody knows you, and that won’t be possible.” Then, eyes narrowing and voice lowering, he will plant the seed. “You’ll get homesick, too. And believe me that’s a baaad sickness.”

Hardin’s formula, and apparently Golden’s, is based on simple geography: Draw a 90-mile circle around Philadelphia and keep that talent mostly home, with occasional excursions elsewhere.
It worked before.
It now appears to be Golden’s working template, too.

Click on the above image for Temple tickets

Happy Birthday to Temple’s favorite Yankee Doodle Dandy, Al Golden, July 4, 1969



By Mike Gibson
One of the surprising things about my cabin near the lake in the Poconos is the people I meet.
One of my good friends over the years, who shall remain nameless, was the supervisor of officials for what used to be known as Division IAA.
That’s the division that includes Delaware and Villanova and the like.
Every summer he regales me of stories about going to Lehigh and supervising his officials.
Entertaining, funny, stuff.
In turn, I regale him about my years of following Temple football.
Stuff funny to him, not so funny to me.
The guy is from Boston, so he knows Jack Cramer, the official who screwed Temple football in last year’s game.
The day after, he saw me jogging by his house.
“Mike, I saw the film, you guys got screwed,” my friend said. “The incredible thing is that I know Jack. He’s really a nice guy, but a Boston guy. If things are even, he’s going to give the New England team a break.”
“Tell me about it,” I said.
“I saw it from both sides on Hartford TV,” he said. “The kid (Bruce Francis) had possession and the ball clearly inbounds.”
“I knew that,” I said, “but thanks anyway.”
Now, I’m told by another friend who happens to be an official, that the end of the game against UConn is showing up in their pre-season briefings.
“Mike, I got to tell you, you are a training film for BCS now,” he said. “We’re training the replay guys. A situation like yours, we’re saying overturn the play.”
The MAC, he said, sent the game film in to the officials upon request.
“The MAC guys (officials) said the play happened too fast to call on the field,” he said. “They said something like that should have been caught. We agree. We’re telling our officials, including Jack, that was enough visual evidence to overturn. It’s a big part of their training now.”
Geez, thanks, I said.
I’m sure Bruce Francis would be thrilled but we plan on putting the game away Sept. 6 by the third quarter.
Or at least the first couple of minutes of the final quarter.
“Good luck,” he said.
“I don’t think we’ll need it,” I said. “There will be 30,000 angry full-throtted Temple fans who will make sure the officials, both on the field and the replay booth, know they can’t do that again.”
It’s up to every Temple fan or alum or any person who cares about Temple or Philadelphia to make my prediction come true.