Early in 2007, I first came up with the idea of writing this book on former Mountaineer football great, Major Harris.
As a part of my wildly conceived master plan, it was my intention to have the book published by the beginning of the 2008 football season. I also expected to have this book on the shelves during the twentieth anniversary of West Virginia’s undefeated 2008 football season.
Like West Virginia’s 1988 season, the timing would have been perfect!
However, there was one “major” problem with my plan.
At that time I had no clue of how to reach Major Harris. In fact, I was not even certain where he lived. And all of my attempts to reach him or learn his phone number had been largely unsuccessful.
Still I was not deterred.
It was my desire to write a biography about a man who I’d never met.
A relatively unknown writer who had never written a sports book was seeking a book deal with a famous former athlete—it seemed like a daunting and possibly unrealistic task. However, those who know me well know that I can be singularly devoted to the pursuit of a goal.
Moreover, I have never been afraid of being told “no.”
Still unsure of how to make this difficult dream a reality, I was watching a football game between West Virginia and Syracuse in late 2007. That year was also the twentieth anniversary of Syracuse’s undefeated season, a season in which the game and the outcome of their season were decided on the last play of the game.
Before going to one of their commercial breaks, the announcers said they would be discussing that historic 1987 football game and interviewing one of its participants, former West Virginia quarterback Major Harris.
Of course there was no way I was going to miss that.
During the course of the interview, they asked Major about his life and what he was currently doing. Harris stated that he was helping to coach football at his old high school.
Racing to my computer, I immediately looked up the address of his old high school from the internet. Then I prepared a letter to Major Harris and stated my case for writing his book. A couple of days later, I mailed the letter to him, in care of the school.
It boldly started with these words:
Dear Mr. Harris,
I am the best writer you’ve never heard of…
.
About a week later, my phone rang. On the line, to my surprise, was the voice of a man who identified himself as Major Harris.
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