I grew up a Michigan football fan, idolizing stars such as Braylon Edwards, Charles Woodson and Lamarr Woodley. This year, when I was offered the chance to go to Ann Arbor to see Michigan play its archrival, Ohio State, I jumped at the opportunity.

The game itself was a wash. It was one of the most poorly played football games I have ever seen — each pass seemed to either slip from a receiver’s hand or sail over his head. Michigan’s best player, by far, was its punter. The Wolverines lost the game more than the Buckeyes won it. The final score was an ugly 14-3.

The beauty of the weekend, though, was the atmosphere before the game itself. In their equivalent of Big Game week, Michigan students tailgated for days beforehand, the culmination of the festivities coming on Saturday morning.

I was awoken at 6:30 a.m., the crack of dawn. At Michigan, “Saturday morning is the best night of the week.”

I headed over to a friend’s apartment, passing people who had adorned themselves with all types of body art. Fans had shaved their hair into the Michigan “M” and the shape of the Wolverines’ helmet design. Their entire bodies were painted blue and maize.

The game was declared a “Maize-Out,” so all fans were instructed to wear gold shirts to the game. Lacking clothing of that color, I headed out to find a street vendor. I bought a shirt that said, “Buck the Fuckeyes.” It wasn’t even close to the most vulgar — or most clever — T-shirt available.

We headed down South State Street, a mix between The Row and White Plaza. Fraternity after fraternity opened their doors, blasting as much music as they could, as loudly as they could. Brothers played football on the lawns. Every time Buckeye fans passed a house, they were booed mercilessly. When a female Michigan fan was seen holding hands with a Buckeye supporter — a sin worse than a Montague walking arm-and-arm with a Capulet — one particularly inebriated fellow implored her to dump the “inbred, illiterate loser.”

We went to AEPi, where the brothers had taken two gutted cars, painted them red and white (Ohio State’s colors) and flipped them over. They spent their morning jumping on top of them.

But the mood was more pro-Michigan than anti-Ohio State. Everywhere we went, cheers of “Hail to the Victors,” Michigan’s fight song, broke out. Students discussed current strategy, program history and future prospects. Alums offered hot dogs to strangers, knowing that, above all on this day, they were connected through Michigan football. The most diehard fans camped out in the cold for two nights to be on College Gameday, ESPN’s college football talk show.

We walked toward the stadium, stopping to watch the band’s drum line perform. Cheerleaders did impromptu routines in the street. Eventually, the crowd turned toward the Big House, Michigan Stadium, where their beloved Wolverines awaited. We entered the student section, 50,000 people strong. The attendance for the day was a hair under 112,000 — as big as a decent-sized army. When the team entered, the sound that arose was nothing short of deafening. These gridiron heroes were heading into a contest they were expected to lose, but they had an entire stadium behind them.

Even as the game degenerated into a comedy of errors, and the temperature dropped to below freezing and a mixture of rain and hail fell from the sky, not one person moved. These were their Wolverines, and they would stand with them until the final whistle.

Our own Big Game now approaches — my first — and while I’m hopeful, I’m not sure what to expect. Attendance at football games is lacking, but it is apparently better than in past years. The Athletic Department has expanded the Red Zone to accommodate more students. And as I returned to campus yesterday, “Go Stanford” and “Beat Cal” signs abounded.

But the atmosphere around football games has never been like it was at Michigan and other schools around the country.

This is, of course, to be expected — Michigan is a perennial powerhouse and one of the top football schools in the country. But for this game — our biggest — perhaps we can emulate them.

When our Cardinal enters the field this Saturday, let’s have the entire Stanford community — not just the football diehards — behind them.

Let’s paint ourselves Cardinal red and lose our voices in cheer. Let’s stand, students with alumni, fans with fans, and back our team. Let us be a true 12th man; let us be a difference-maker.

Wyndam Makowsky is a freshman who will be at the Big Game, win or lose. Will you?