You met them during the Penn State football season, in the pages of the Sunday Centre Daily Times or here online. They were the fans of the week, as chosen by the CDT. Now it's up to you to determine the fan of the year.

POLL: CAST YOUR VOTE

Patrick Joyce has made the annual pilgrimage from his home near Scranton to the season opener at Penn State for decades, but unlike other fans, he doesn't get caught in traffic anymore.

Three Penn State alumni served up 90 scrambled eggs topped with cheese and crabmeat on Saturday in a grassy lot behind Beaver Stadium.

Fans of the Game: Andy Berdy and Suzy Kaler

Frank Zook moved lawn chairs around his tailgate area on Saturday to form an aisle and then spread early fall leaves down the center for the bride.

The CDT's pick for Saturday's Nittany Lion fan of the game has taken the white-out theme to a whole new level.

The unmistakable, warm scent of breakfast lured me to this week's tailgate of the week, and I wasn't disappointed.

A dozen flags flew above an SUV and trailer from Connecticut on Saturday, revealing a lot about the fan who chose them.

You met them during the Penn State football season, in the pages of the Sunday Centre Daily Times or here online. They were the tailgates of the week, as chosen by the CDT. Now it's up to you to determine the tailgate of the year.

POLL: CAST YOUR VOTE

It's loosely known as the track tailgate, but it's really about family and friends who want to stick together and can't find a better place than in the shadow of Beaver Stadium.

PLEASANT GAP -- This week's fan of the game represents all those die-hard Nittany fans who can't go to Penn State games but are no less dedicated for it.

A cold wind whipped through the field near the Blue Band building on Saturday and made it hard for Penn State alumnus Mike Nemith, of Washington, D.C., to pour vodka into his friends' mouths, and not on their shirts, before the game.

Lory Fullington listens and Sparky Vandzura tells the story -- about a Penn State classmate he had in the autumn of 1986.

Amid the flamboyant exuberance that is Penn State tailgating, a small but well-ordered table stands out like a quiet but steady star in a disordered universe.

When 14-year-old Mark Matheson wakes up in the morning, he turns on a Penn State lamp, is surrounded by wallpaper that resembles a Penn State locker room and walks by a blanket hung on the wall that bears a big S.

The Penn State Stupid Club, of Plymouth, is not a slight on the Nittany Lions. In fact, it's the opposite.