Naturally during times of controversy, change, and emotional complexion does one attempt to understand the depths of what drives our deep seeded passion and support for a university/college. For state universities, alums and non alums embrace one another on game days in comradely to champion and reflect pride in their home state.
At private universities, alums and family of alums unitto share a pride for their school and in many cases that private institutions of their school particular mission. College athletics unites people and the relationships that's built as a result know no out of bounds or isn't limited to the campus the games are played on. College athletics go far beyond the games. It's a cultural that's unparalleled. While I am biased, I feel comfortable is saying college football is superior to professional football. I'll take a college game every day of the week and TWICE On Sunday ( no pun intended).
The athletes, students, band, cheerleaders, alums, boosters, and proud non alum fans come together and unite from all walks of life to support an idea that's intstilled into them mostly as kids. It's a legacy that will be passed to future generations. It's all about relationships.
I read this post today that put college athletics into perspective to me. Yes, it's WVU related, but I feel it represents all the schools of college football. When rare controversies of coaching changes, money, and disagreements arise we all need to step back and allow the value of college athletics to resonate as the special relationship it has with each of us. Once we do this its easy to see whysupercedes even the nastiest of fall outs when universities whether that's Alabama, Auburn, Michigan, Notre Dame, and yes my beloved Mountaineers are in a gray area of attempting to steer it's path while staying true to the wholesome values that make college athletics pure.
Fans and the relationships with it's players are college football's greatest asset. Our coaches may come and go, but the commitment to our teams/players are unwavering.
A post I think all of us can relate to:
When I was a child I was presented with my Mountaineers. My father, like his before him, had the Mounties as an integral part of his life. Times were always tough and a day off was not a luxury many could afford. My dad was a house painter and he worked daylight to dark 6 days a week most weeks. There were even times when he would work all day, come home and eat and nap and then go back and work through the night. The radio was his constant companion and his window to Morgantown. He would listen as he worked, and often he would listen when we had a Saturday outing as a family. I can remember the emotion of Jack Fleming streaming like a magical lute from a world I could not quite grasp.
I remember, as the years went on and I grew old enough to be truly invested, watching the extreme emotions that those words could illicit from my dad. I recall how nervous both he and my grandfather would get. The sheer joy and utter pain they would feel. My personal memories begin with Don Nehlen’s first year and the magic of the following years. We were seldom ever televised then and I had mainly my imagination of what Dane the Train looked like plowing through the line. Oliver Luck was my Robin Hood; Steve Newberry and Tim Agee my Butch and Sundance; Darryl Talley was the scary monster that I wanted on my side. Jack Fleming painted a picture that flowed so perfectly into my mind that I couldn’t imagine those lucky souls in the stadium could see better than I. Woody would always have an anecdote that would lighten even the most tense moments, whether it made a whole lot of sense or not. I remember feeling like I could cry when the fates let one slip away. I recall feeling like life had reached perfection when a Mountaineer team with no shot not only beat Oklahoma in Norman… but really beat Oklahoma in Norman. Man… they were playing prevent in the last few minutes because Hoss had lit them up so badly that day.
I remember so much. The basketball team led by Greg Jones that played a brand of ball that was just a thing of beauty. Beating UNLV on television was just an explosion of joy.
I remember a lot. What I remember most is that no matter how hard life was, we always had our Mountaineers. My grandfather never attended WVU, though he loved the school like he had. My dad never did, he worked all the time to provide for me and my sister. I never attended WVU, there was never that kind of money. I joined the Army and during that 1993 season that everyone got to experience live, I was in Camp Casey, Korea. I got to listen to those games too, though. My dad would tape them and mail them to me.
Three generations of my family have relied upon our Mountaineers for so much. Our vacations invariably have been dictated by bowl games and tournaments. Our Saturdays in the fall and nights in the winter are planned according to radio/tv availability. No matter how bad a football season was… basketball was on its heels. No matter how rough a basketball season went, the blue-gold game was just around the corner. Summers were the time for dreams. Everyone is undefeated in July.
No time is too tough and no troubles too much. We are proud of every single young man who dons the uniform and they are immortal in our memories. I never seen Arty Owens play, but my dad showed me from his memory. My son will not recall Owen Schmitt or Pat and Steve; but I will show him as I was shown.
There is nothing like it anywhere in this country. No one can understand but us. You know what I remember? I remember what Rich Rodriguez forgot. I remember what my son will one day remember and what none of my family will ever forget; We are all Mountaineers in West Virginia and there is nothing like it anywhere else.
With all of that said, I will support whoever is hired as the new WVU coach. I’ll support and believe success will come because I don’t know how to do anything else. The kids who wear that uniform make me so damn proud and I will believe in them as long as there is breath left in me. I’ll always believe, and I’ll never forgive any who wrong them.
