My nephew's association with WVU football parallels Pat White's, for the most part. The Louisville game in 2005 was the first "big" game they both enjoyed. Pat coming into the game late in the fourth quarter for the injured Adam Bednarik and leading WVU to a thrilling triple overtime win, and my nephew witnessing the whole thing in amazement and enjoying the aftermath of a big WVU homecoming win. Since then we have attended three or four games at Mountaineer Field every season, and watched the games we could not make it to at his place, where our, ah, enthusiastic viewer participation would disturb no one.
Arriving at his place for the Meinike Bowl, I noticed his girlfriend's car parked outside, and I searched my memory: Had she been here for a game before? Does she know what to expect? Has she been warned?
It is not that we kick the furniture or throw things, but one never knows how a game might turn out, and I would have hated for her to see our ugly side.
The game was a few seconds old as I walked in the door—last-minute details had held me up from getting there before kickoff like usual. I got there just in time to see UNC's first punt and the subsequent quick WVU score. Whoooooo! Go Mountaineers!!! High fives and hell yeah's, as his girlfriend watches us from her chair. She is obviously not going to get involved, but that is okay. No reason for her to get excited, it is not her team.
A few plays later, and disbelief. Yates, the UNC quarterback, throws into double coverage and Lankster, the WVU corner is in perfect position to make the pick. Somehow the ball bounces off his shoulder and into the hands of Nicks, the UNC receiver, who completes the play for the TD dragging the other corner into the end zone for six.
My nephew and I groan in unison. "Can you believe that?" "How lucky can you get?" Multiple generic expressions of disbelief fill the room.
Still, it is just one lucky play. The 'Eers are moving the ball with skill and precision, the Heels are getting lucky breaks. Surely this cannot last.
Sure enough, on the next WVU possession, PW's new-found passing skills lead to a 44-yard TD strike down the middle to Arnett. Let's see you match that, UNC.
First play from scrimmage, a halfback pass—again to Nicks—goes for 66 yards and another TD. Nicks breaks tackles all the way down the sideline. Even more outraged expressions of disbelief—are these guys ever going to play football, or are they going to depend on luck and trick plays?
The game becomes a tennis match, a track meet. Score. Score. Score. At the end of the first quarter, 35 points have been scored—WVU 21, UNC 14. The defenses for both teams are useless, impotent. UNC's because of the superior talent on the WVU team, WVU's because of the unholy luck-spell that surrounds UNC, plus this guy "Nicks." Who is he? In the first quarter he has got three catches for 148 yards and two TDs.
Who is this guy?
Finally, a big defensive stop by WVU. A goal-line stand gives the 'Eers the ball on the one-foot line or thereabouts. Little Noel Devine is sent smashing into the center of the line, barely getting the bal
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