A week ago, a student columnist at The HOYA posed a question worth examining. Here's a link to his article.
"Each time a Georgetown student goes to watch a game, they trade away four hours of their time," writes Michael Hassner. "This tradeoff is one thing for those who would watch anyway: students who have ties to players, an appreciation for the game of football or are part of the in-game experience, such as members of cheer or band. But what about the other 95% of the student population?"
It's a problem that Georgetown sees at every home football game: a disarming lack of turnout and sustained interest from its primary source of support: students. Causes are multiple, but effects are singular: a lack of interest brings down the atmosphere and the lack of support is felt as much on the field as in the stands. Say what you will about "educated" students not showing interest in sports (those students at Notre Dame, Duke, or Villanova do just fine), the sad fact is that if you are a student at Georgetown, or even an alumnus, a football game at Cooper Field isn't very much fun. That's not just a team problem, it's a University problem.
Two generations ago, Homecoming games at Georgetown drew upwards of 9,000 fans on campus, most of whom were students or recent graduates.
"The fanbase has changed quite a bit, because [in] that day it was 99.9 percent students and dates, and now it is, I would guess, 65 percent alumni and parents and 35 percent undergrads,” said former Georgetown quarterback Bruce Simmons (B'69) in a 2018 Georgetown Voice article. By contrast, last week's game versus Columbia may not have seen 10 percent students, band and cheerleaders included.
Times were admittedly different and Jesuits looked the other way when it came to alcohol over-consumption and various stunts, such as the time a group of cheery (and perhaps beery) students bought their way upon the WMAL traffic helicopter and got them to land it on the 50 yard line at Kehoe Field minutes before kickoff. Try that today, and those students are likely to get a call from the Office Of Student Conduct and the FAA.
The Hoyas won a lot more games then, even against shoestring programs like Seton Hall, NYU, or Hartford, all since gone. Today's team enjoys no such cupcakes, and losing has consequences. Try as it might, students don't see much rah-rah spirit around a game with Columbia or Lehigh. However, even if Georgetown was 4-0 heading into its game with Cornell this week, a lot of students would not give it a second thought. Simply put, athletics is not part of an increasingly singular culture that values clicks over conversation, and relaxation over recreation.
"Simply, the trick to drawing students to football games lies in the quality of the experience," Hassner writes.
Georgetown has lacked it for years, perhaps decades, because of one fact it can't ignore: no one is responsible for the fan experience: Athletics doesn't want it, Advancement doesn't want it, GUSA doesn't want it. No responsibility leads to little or no effort as a result.
When I attended high school in Dallas that regularly drew upwards of 6,000 a game, the game was just part of the package. We had an official student spirit group that handled in-game promotion and a very unofficial group that handled what was colloquially called the P-H-P: "pregame, halftime, and post-game". Alumni, parents, and friends showed up not just for the 60 minutes on the field but the camaraderie, the music, and dare I say it, the fun of being around people and enjoying a shared experience. None of this is in evidence at Cooper Field.
There is no pregame activity. Alumni and parents have one tailgate adjacent to Regents Hall, the opposing team may or may not have one at the McDonouigh bus turnaround. Students have neither: no music, no food choices, no socializing. People wander in to unmarked seats, and that's about it. The band is tucked in the far corner of the one-sided field and can be inaudible at points of the game. Last week, the cheerleaders never strayed beyond the points in front of the band, and thus they were invisible to 80 percent of the crowd.
Georgetown's lack of parking and green space does it no favors, a given. However, the campus has enough room where people could gather alongside the field, whether adjacent to the Southwest Quad, along the road that passes by Harbin, or even the overlook from Hariri before games. Without effort, of course, no one is going to show up.
There is no halftime activity. Georgetown's band is undersized and makes no effort to compete at a level where it could march and provide a passable halftime show. Opponents don't send their band to perform. Fifteen years ago, despite being three miles from the Hilltop, Howard did not even send its band across town to play. Even third party bands could be part of the discussion (think: the Eastern High School Band or the NFL's Commanders marching band) but these come with planning and with a cost. There's no cost because no one presents them as an option.
If the single file line to the only concession stand on the grounds doesn't do much for halftime socializing, 20 minutes of an empty field does even less. The lack of a video board, a pet peeve of mine for years, gives guests nothing to see and even less to stay attuned to the sport. In-stand concession sales ("Hot dogs! Cold drinks here!") do not exist, much less 50.50 raffles or some of the promotional activities seen at Washington Nationals games. A Presidents Race, anyone?
There is no post-game activity. Many students hear from their fans about the "fifth quarter" at schools, where a game winds down and there are post-game gatherings and tailgates, often as the band serenades them with a show after the game. Not everyone has to get back home or catch a flight immediately thereafter; yet, people just wander away.
Georgetown doesn't have to be Notre Dame to enjoy a football game, and a little school spirit will not turn it suddenly into Auburn on the Potomac, either. "More pressingly, Georgetown’s 152-year football pedigree is tragically devoid of fan traditions," Hassner said. "At the start of the game, a live Jack the Bulldog could eat a cardboard cutout of the opposing mascot. Or, the Healy Hall bells could ring like crazy right before the game, as they do at 12 p.m. and 6 p.m. “Hoya Saxa” was coined at a football game, but it isn’t part of the fabric of game day. And heaven forbid we have a halftime show."
He continues:
"The fun police might argue that the athletics department has little incentive to add to the experience, since students don’t pay for tickets. But Georgetown football exists for a number of reasons, paramount among those is to bring together the Hoya community. This investment can pay dividends, driving outsider attendance to games and creating students who will be fans for life."
Dividends don't appear overnight, but they only appear at all when someone is investing. The Athletic Department is invested in its constituents-- the players. They see the lack of fan turnout across all sports but do not see a need to deplete its budget for promotions that students won't take advantage of it. Cooper Field is a prime example--it's half the size (or less) of every other stadium in its conference but people don't show up anyway. That stretch of space behind the visitors bench once held 1,500 seats as late as 2019, but was torn down--no one is going to use it. The green space behind the north end zone is considered "lawn seating" for capacity purposes but its rarely considered by students as a place to sit.
What will it take for students to show support? In another era, entire freshman dorms showed up for game in no small part that we knew the people on the team, and there were five players on the team from my 2nd Darnall floor alone. The fraternity down the street arrived to games dressed in matching sweatshirts and led cheers from the stands, at least after the drinks kicked in. We weren't that excited to see the likes of St. Francis, St. John's, or Washington & Lee, but we were there because it was fun, and fun is in short supply at Georgetown. Waiting for the University to supply that fun may be a lost cause. Students have to step up and make it "football for fun" an experience in 2026 just as it was in 1966 or 1996.
As for 2026, it's too little, too late. Following Homecoming this weekend, just two home game remain on a football schedule: a Columbus Day Weekend game with Bucknell that is likely to draw few students and a Nov. 7 game with Holy Cross that may conflict with the GU-Maryland basketball game downtown. Basketball has many of the same "no fun" attributes that football has, but it's perceived as a "big game" and the small-c casual fan will give it a try.
Next season's schedule will feature three games with three opponents that are less than two hours from the Hilltop: Richmond, William & Mary, and Villanova. (Yes, that Villanova.) All three have a legitimate football tradition and all three have fan bases that would fill Cooper Field with its own fans in numbers that that Holy Cross or Colgate never could. They will come--will Georgetown be ready?
If students like Michael Hassner, The HOYA, and GUSA want to start planning for 2027, now is the time to do so, to figure out what will attract students to football games next fall and, more importantly, what will keep them invested in it: food trucks, bands, contests, you name it.
But it starts with dialogue, and it must start with students.








