Sucked In

Sucked in—To be drawn into believing there is a chance for success by West Virginia University athletic teams (specifically football and basketball) right at the moment when you are ready to give up hope of success, only to have those hopes dashed by a poor performance.

To a less severe degree I experienced this last night with the WVU basketball team. 10-0 so far, winning this past week over 2 ranked opponents, being ranked themselves, being Dickie V’s team of the week, and having a huge story in USA TODAY, I knew the floor would drop out soon, and it did last night with them losing, but not only losing, but being crushed by Villanova 84-46. I can deal with that loss. Was I excited they were 10-0? Of course, but I never thought they would go 14-0 or 18-0. So that loss tempered my enthusiasm a little, but I am still looking forward to watching the rest of the season.

The other occurrence happened on Saturday with WVU playing Florida St. in the Gator Bowl. I had planned on going to Buffalo Wild Wings and watching the game with wings and beer in hand to soften the blow of the sure to be destruction of the Mountaineers in the Gator Bowl. The team has underachieved all season. Undisciplined, penalty-laden, and bad performances at times when they needed to step up were the mark of this team all season, what would change that now? Heck, if Maryland did it last year there was no reason to believe that the same wouldn’t happen this year. I walked into the Wing joint with my only goal being for us not to embarrass ourselves. I knew I was walking into a WVU-friendly atmosphere where when things got bad we could console ourselves (misery does love company). No expectation, just wings and beer.

I will never forget the moment that FSU scored on the second play from scrimmage. I was eating a wing and my buddy Tom was putting one down too. As the running back broke through the line I would normally stop eating and yell “Stop him! Hit him! Catch him!” but as the FSU running back was racing 60+ yards for the touchdown I just kept gnawing at my wing and out of the corner of my eye I could see Tom doing the same. We have been here before. As he ran down the sidelines and into the end zone I swallowed my wing and reached for my beer. The only words exchanged between Tom and I were “Man that guy is fast,” as we sipped our beers. We knew this was coming and weren’t even shocked by how fast it happened.

On the ensuing kickoff WVU fumbled and FSU recovered and I knew this was the beginning of the end. My only goal was to not be embarrassed on national TV and it had taken a whole 5 minutes for that goal to be shattered. I quickly called my mom who the day before showed such innocent confidence by saying, “We are going to win this game.” I left her a voice mail on her cell that went something like this: “Mom. Ryan. I am sitting here at BW3 and I just watched FSU score on their second play from scrimmage and recover our fumble on the kick off, do you still think we are going to win this game?”

We hold them to a field goal. 10-0 and I have eaten only 2 wings, but the majority of my 20 oz draft beer is gone.

All expectations are gone at this point. Now all I want is that it doesn’t get out of control and turn into a 103-7 game or anything like that. If they can keep them to only 45 points I will be happy. It’s like getting take-out food from a place you know always screws up your order. You know something is going to be missing, you expect it, just let it be a sauce or something, not the chime ole.

WVU did something I never expected on the next drive. Couple nice passes, nice running plays and a throw and run into the end zone. What, no penalties? We scored? Disbelief. Confusion. A missed extra point. Ahh there it is. 10-6 FSU.

Back and forth for a few possessions, then the strange happens again. We drive down the field again in impressive fashion and score a second TD? Huh? What’s happening? Another missed extra point. Ahh there it is again. 12-10 WVU.

At this moment, here is where the “sucking in” takes place. Just when my hopes are at it’s lowest. Just when all is lost and there is nothing more to believe in, that’s when they get you. That is when they make you suspend reality and let yourself believe “We could actually win this game.”

It’s hard to resist at a place full of WVU fans. People start to cheer and get excited and suddenly you are cheering. What? Cheering? Getting excited over plays? Fist pumping? No this can’t be happening. All I wanted was to keep the score under 45 a few wings ago and now we are winning. Why oh cruel sports god would you do this to me? Why?

I call Trent to get him to talk me down off of this ledge of believement.

No answer, voicemail, “Trent, I am getting sucked in. Tell me we aren’t going to win. Tell me we are going to lose, make me not believe.” Knowing Trent he is getting as sucked in as I am. Many a time we have made runs like this at Mountaineer field and in the midst of my excitement I have high-fived Trent and we share the same look, the same feelings, we are both victims.

I need professional help. I call Adam, the eternal pessimist. I know he’s not sucked in yet.

“Adam, I am getting sucked in, tell me we are going to lose, let me know that I shouldn’t believe we are going to win this game.”

After a brief discussion about strategy (because you can’t just call and not talk about missed extra points and how the defense looks) he talks me off of my ledge.

“Well I imagine it will come down to a field goal, and we will miss it and lose.” Ahh the reasoning I was looking for. I feel a weight off my shoulders. I feel happy and relaxed. “Thanks Adam, you are right, what was I thinking.”

My second 20 oz beer is brought to the table. I was drinking before to ease the pain, now I am drinking to calm my nerves.

Halftime is 13-12 FSU. I field a call from my Mom now chastising me about my earlier wing/beer/early score induced voice mail.

A call from Trent on a beer run, obviously feeling the same way I am at this moment. We talk strategy. I share with him Adam’s pearl of wisdom, but poor kid, I think he is just as gone as I am.

They kick a field goal, we kick a field goal. 16-15 now in the 3rd quarter. And as much as Adam helped I am feeling drawn back in. The table of guys next to us are standing. Cheering with every good play I can’t help but to let out a “YEAA!” on a sack. Tom and I know we are officially sucked in and there is nothing we can do now.

Beginning of the 4th quarter, there is still a chance FSU is only up 23-18 now after we kick another FG. This could go down to the end. I receive a call from my old college roommate Giz. “They are sucking me in.” Giz, not nearly as close to all of the WVU action in Houston, TX is still feeling the vortex over 1,000 miles away and is calling me for help as my 3rd Killians is being brought to the table. I share with him what Adam told me and it seems to easy his anxiety.

FSU takes over on the kickoff and drives 80 yards in 7 plays and as my buddy Tim Brunicardi would say, “Ballgame.” It’s all over but the last 10 minutes. We haven’t put the ball in the endzone the whole second half and it’s not looking good. The last swallow of the 3rd beer is gone.

With about 6:00 left in the game, FSU up 30-18 and driving, Tom and I decide to leave and catch the last few minutes on the radio.

We hear WVU driving, Rasheed is hurt and Charles Hales comes in. The MSN broadcaster Dwight Wallace mentions that if we can go down and score and recover the onside kick we have a chance. Poor dope, he is sucked in more than anyone I know.