This season has been a bit of an anomaly for me. On Saturday, I went to my second University of Montana football game of the year, thanks to the Carroll College Saints' bye weeks. The first came at the end of the regular season and the second this weekend's forfeiture from Northwestern Oklahoma State.

For the past three seasons, I've spent every fall weekend covering Saints football, a team I have truly enjoyed watching.

But for the four years of my life in college, every weekend was spent following the University of Montana Grizzlies.

During their 2001 NCAA Division I-AA (it was still called that at the time) championship season, I spent every home game in the stands, even through the playoffs. The only thing that stopped me from becoming the sixth man in a packed Toyota on its way to Chattanooga that year was a lack of money, or better yet, lack of a credit card.

I was there for "The Expansion" at Washington-Grizzly stadium, "The Other Expansion," and of course "The $1 Million Debt."

When the University of Montana, in an effort to make more money, began charging their students for tickets, a Griz-Cat seat was so easy to come by you didn't even have to wait in line the first day.

Beforehand, I remember when we used to snatch up every ticket we could and when the school ran out, we began sneaking our friends in. We laughed at attendance records because we knew that every time they flashed a number up on the jumbotron, there were actually 200 to 300 more people than they had recorded.

At the end of my collegiate days, my friends and I saw the increasingly empty student section, either because they couldn't afford the tickets or were simply protesting the cost. We figured that UM football was coming to an end.

Not that it would go bankrupt. Not that they would ever suffer a losing season. But instead, that it would lose its heart. Its craziness. Its loudest, most raucous, die-hard -- and likely drunk -- fans.

That's where the program was when I left it in May of 2005. Kids were still paying money (give it to UM, they know how to squeeze every dime out of its students) to watch the game they deserve.

Over the last four years, Grizzly football had to develop without me.

I've recently spoken to some younger buddies, still in college, who spoke ill of the games. Students still weren't packing the stands, even though they no longer had to pay for tickets. And even as they are setting attendance records with the most recent expansion, everything seems a little more docile.

The students didn't like some of the new players, rejects from I-A (now FBS) schools who were kicked out because of illegal activity.

They often blamed the coach, Bobby Hauck, for the team's troubles, on and off the field.

I spent the Grizzlies' matchup with Idaho State, a winless team 10 games into the season, with my friend Justin and the older crowd across the way.

The Bengals were horrible and the Grizzlies were playing down to them in the first half. The game was so boring, we spent most of the time chit-chatting with the fans around us. Most of them had found out I am the assistant sports editor in Helena and began asking me questions:

"How about those Saints' young quarterbacks? You think they'll win another national championship? When are they going to play the Bobcats or Grizzlies?"

Justin and I left after halftime.

I've become a UM grad overcome with curiosity. That's why I decided to spend this Saturday's playoff game against Texas State in the students' section of the stands.

What I found out: The student fans didn't die, they just hibernated for a while.

With every big defensive play came a deafening roar. Turnovers sent the students into a panic as young men and women looked around for people to high-five. When the other team had to call a time out because the crowd was too loud, it gave me a sense of pride.

Granted, it wasn't as loud as I remember, but neither am I. The entire student section didn't get up and dance to "Cotton-Eyed Joe," nor did they pick on every cornerback that Texas State threw their way.

But, the majority still stuck around until the final second ran off the clock just to say good-bye to their beloved Grizzlies.

I spoke to a senior who told me about the dark days for the students. How tickets could be picked up on the ground. He guaranteed me that things have gone 180 degrees from the way they were.

It's been a slow process, but they're starting to catch up.

Assistant Sports Editor

Jeff Windmueller: 447-4065 or jeff.windmueller@helenair.com