ALONG U.S. 77 — For some reason, there's a train running through the middle of downtown Marysville, Kan.

No townspeople seem to notice.

Eighty-nine-year-old Don Newton — sporting a purple Kansas State windbreaker, and being yelled at by his wife to hurry into the Wagon Wheel restaurant for dinner — is not annoyed by the nearby train. He's annoyed with the question he's been asked.

Does anyone in Marysville — a town only 11 miles south of the Nebraska border — give a hoot about the Nebraska-Kansas State game this year?

"I don't think so. Kansas State will beat their (butts). What more you need to know than that?" Newton says. "Neither one of them is worth a …"

Right on cue, a train's horn serves as a censor.

Traveling south on U.S. 77 Thursday night — two days before the Huskers and Wildcats collide — at least one commonality can be found between those with HSKR license plates and those who put giant purple cat logos on $30,000 SUVs.

From both sides, there's a slice of discontent leading into today's contest between Nebraska (4-2) and Kansas State (2-4). There's good reason, too.

Both teams have sunk low enough on the college football radar screen that even cable television — which shows its share of terrible football games each week — didn't have one station that wanted to contaminate its airwaves with the clash of red and purple.

"It's a shame. This game is kind of sad," says Joe Cohorst, a big K-State fan and owner of Joe's Bar in Marysville. "But both sets of fans probably deserve it in a way. The feeling from Kansas State fans was how arrogant Nebraska had become when they were whipping everybody.

"Don't get me wrong. Nebraska fans are great fans who will support their team no matter what and they probably had a right to be like they were. Now, I think K-State fans have become the same way."

Cohorst proves quite likable with a sense of humor. He has a full gray beard, wears a purple K-State sweat shirt and jokes that Nebraska fans should be kicked out of the country.

Back when Johnny Rodgers and  his Husker teammates were traveling through town en route to play K-State, a younger, less-mature Cohorst and some friends put up signs that read: "All gas stations closed. Johnny Rodgers is in town."

This was shortly after Rodgers had held up a service station in Lincoln. (He was pardoned by the Nebraska governor many years later.)

"That was pretty nasty of us," Cohorst admits now, though he follows it with a laugh.

He also admits there were a few K-State backers, including himself, who "took delight" in seeing Nebraska lose 70-10 at Texas Tech a few weeks ago.

"If I wasn't fat, I would have done cartwheels," Cohorst says.

One Marysville resident who didn't delight in that game was Steve Osborne, a Husker season ticket holder who actually calls Atkinson home.

He's been renting a house for the past 2½ years in the small Kansas town while he works for a contracting company hired by Union Pacific railroad. They're building overpasses so drivers only get stopped once by a passing train in Marysville. Husker fans who have driven through the town en route to Manhattan can tell you painful stories about getting stopped by the front end of the same train three times.

Osborne says the town of Marysville is about an even split between Nebraska and K-State fans. But people who wear purple tell you Wildcats fans outnumber Husker backers in the town 2 to 1.

"Kansas State finally won something last year. That's the first thing they ever won," says Osborne, who,  unusually, hasn't heard one peep about this game from people all week. "They're new to winning, so they have an overboard tendency. They think we're arrogant and spoiled, a little too used to getting our own way.

"We are, but with what our team has done in the last 40 years, I think we have a little reason to walk a little bit above the college fan."

Osborne says he thinks K-State fans have a bandwagon mentality and are quick to jump off as soon as the going gets tough. His argument is lent some credence by the fact the Wildcats did not sell out a home game this year until last week's showdown against No. 2 Oklahoma.

"The only talk about Kansas State I hear here is about the upcoming women's basketball season. They have a local girl (Kendra Wecker) on the team," Osborne says.

Heading north, U.S. 77 takes you 20 miles until you run into the next town.

You are now in Wymore, Nebraska — population 1,600-and-change.

According to the town's chief of police, a purple backer named Bryan Davidson, "there are probably about a dozen of us K-State fans that are out of the closet."

The rest of the town supports the Big Red.

"But you don't hear as much chiding back and forth as you normally do," says Davidson, who admits his house is painted purple partially because of his allegiances to his alma mater.

Davidson is so purple he takes his children across the street to a neighbor's house after wins against  Nebraska and sings the K-State fight song. Usually, they're greeted with a sign on the door that reads: "No one home."

Seeing Davidson's purple Wildcat flag hanging from his house window bugged neighbor Linda Dorn so much she bought a Husker flag to counter Davidson's bravado.

"Any Nebraska-Kansas State game is exciting. Probably a lot of it's because of Bryan being a Wildcat fan," says Dorn. "But I'm going to support Nebraska no matter who's coach or what their record is."

But Shirley Cook, owner of Wymore's A&N bar, says interest in the Big Red is down.

"Since what's been happening, no one is too excited this week," Cook says. "We pack the bar on game days, but we've had several people who have left early this year."

Yet, most at the bar seem confident the Huskers are just in a rebuilding mode. Give head coach Bill Callahan time to recruit and Nebraska will be back again, they say.

A few blocks from the bar, Robert Davis breaks up a front-yard conversation with a friend about four-wheeling to say that he thinks Callahan is the best thing that ever happened to Nebraska.

"And people who root for Kansas State are the people with no football knowledge," Davis says.

He nudges his 13-year-old son Cory and smiles at him. Husker pride still exists here.

When asked for a prediction Cory says: "41-34."

Nebraska wins?

Cory looks at you like you asked something as ridiculous as if he likes candy.

You deserved that look. It was a stupid question.

After all, you're not in Kansas anymore. No trains in sight.

Reach Brian Christopherson at 473-7438 or bchristopherson@journalstar.com.