Honorary Hokie

After everything that has gone on and been said about the shootings down in Blacksburg, Virginia earlier this week, the last thing anyone wants to do is read more about it in a sports article.

And truth be told, most readers know me well enough to know that more days than not I'm pissed off to begin with, so an entire column dedicated to that days events, or worse, the media's exploitative coverage would seriously be enough to put me over the edge.

After addressing my insomnia and kidney stones in my last column, I'm pretty sure my head would explode if I put one more second of thought to Geraldo Rivera and fellow jackasses camping out at the university. I still think it's too bad that the enemy wasn't able to figure out exactly where Geraldo was located when he drew pictures in the sand while tagging along with U.S. troops in the Middle East. Taking that guy out could have been the good-will gesture our government needed to end the war in Iraq. But I digress.

Instead of dwelling on the terrible tragedy on the campus of one of our nation's best schools, I wanted to share a story with everyone of how I became an honorary Hokie.

The date was November 15, 2003. The location was Philadelphia, Pa. The Virginia Tech Hokies (7-2 at the time) were in town to take on the lowly Temple Owls (1-8 before the game). This was my first ever VT game, and we did it right. My good buddy Andy got 15 tickets, and after lengthy tailgate festivities we headed to our seats.

I'm not sure how I drew the lucky straw, but Andy and I sat in the middle of the first row on the 50 yard line, directly behind Temple's bench. The entire rest of our group was seated directly behind us in row two. Normally sitting on the opposing team's side for an away game can be scary (especially in Philly). But no one cares about Temple. This game was pretty much a home game for Virginia Tech as thousands of Hokie fans made the trip on this Saturday.

While we would have loved to have been on the Hokie side of the field, we were amazed at how great our seats were at Lincoln Financial Stadium that day. We were ready for some football.

As someone who has loved and played teams sports all my life, I always enjoy being that close to the action. I might not have been able to name one Temple player prior to kickoff, but I was definitely watching and soaking in every minor detail as players, coaches and trainers conducted their final preparations.

That's when it happened. One player caught my attention that day. His name was Jared Davis, and he was Temple's scrawny kicker. This little blonde kid immediately stood out, he looked like a young high schooler who was wearing an older brother's pads for Halloween. We would later find out that in 2003 he was the smallest player in all of Division I football. He was so out of place down there that whenever he happened by an offensive lineman it looked like one of those "take your kid to work" days on the Temple sideline.

Just as the game was about to begin, my new favorite player Jared was taking a few warm-up kicks in his kicker's net. The problem is, Temple is a basketball school, not football, and his net had a hole or two in it. So his second attempt hit the net, spun through and shot out the other side nearly taking out a cheerleader in the process. That's when I started in on him. I screamed at Jared, who was less than 15 feet away from me, telling him to watch out because she was clearly bigger than he was.

I was close enough to the action that I could see him lower his head in shame as he retrieved the football while I busted his chops. Several of the cheerleaders began to laugh at him (except the one who almost took the money shot, she was still staring daggers at poor, little Jared) and even some of the real football players turned around to see what was going on. Needless to say, once I saw the reaction I was getting from Jared's own teammates, I turned it up a notch. As the day went on, I continued to drink more beer and get more creative as I heckled that lonesome kicker.

When one of his fieldgoal attempts was blocked in the first half, I pleaded for him to not come back to the Temple sideline. I let him know it would be better for everyone if he just gave up on the spot and tried a new sport. Maybe Jared was better suited for women's soccer, I loudly suggested.

But here's the thing about Virginia Tech, they're famous for playing to the level of their competition. If they're playing the number one team in the nation, they'll show up for a knock down, drag out fight. Don't even bother showing the game on regular cable, just go ahead and show it on ESPN Classic. It'll be that good of a game. But when they play creampuffs like Temple, well … not so much. So the 12th-ranked Hokies managed to blow a 17-0 lead with 11 minutes remaining and let the pitiful Owls back into the game.

Not only that, but the game-tying fieldgoal came with 40 seconds left when my new BFF Jared connected from 37 yards out. It's pretty difficult to talk trash about the prison prom queen when he's coming through in the clutch. But I wasn't rattled. I just continued my attempts to crush him mentally.

Things went from bad to worse when Hokie QB Bryan Randall threw an interception on their next possession. That gave Jared a chance to be the hero of the day. If he could kick a 50-yard fieldgoal with just seconds remaining, he would win and I would lose. As he grabbed his helmet, I yelled one final thought to him, "What the hell are you doing, Jared," I sarcastically shouted. "You can't even see that far. Tell them to take a knee and save yourself the heartache."

He missed it wide right.

People I had never met began slapping me high fives and thanking me for keeping Virginia Tech in the game. All the while, I'm living an asshole's dream and ruining some kid's college career. This was one of the happiest days of my life.

When overtime started, Temple won the toss and chose to play defense. The Owls tried to keep the momentum in their favor, but they couldn't slay the sleeping Hokies. Bryan Randall redeemed himself for his late interception when he broke free for a 23-yard touchdown in overtime. Now, Temple had the ball and trailed 24-17. Temple quarterback Walter Washington connected with Zamir Cobb in the flat, who followed his blockers 22 yards for the touchdown. So it came down to the most routine play in football, the extra point. If Jared Davis connects on this chip shot, the game continues.

This time he missed wide left.

I'd like to tell you I felt bad after all of the mental abuse I dished out to the kid that day. And I'd like to hook up with Heather Graham. But I don't see either one of those happening any time soon. Jared left the stadium that day looking for answers (and a growth spurt), and I left the stadium an honorary Hokie.

Their fans embraced me that day and I've been hooked ever since. I took a liking to Virginia Tech so much so that I even married a cute little blonde from there three years later (don't tell Heather Graham). And I'll say for the record that you haven't lived until you've been in Lane Stadium as more than 66,000 rabid Hokies go wild to the sounds of Metallica's "Enter Sandman" while the team prepares to take the field. Hands down, it's the most intimidating introduction in college football.

That's what I keep thinking about these past few days – how amazingly passionate these Hokies are. I never went to college, but I can't wait to get back down to Blacksburg and show my support for the school I'd be proud to call my own.

Brian Murphy is the 2005 Defense Department's sportswriter of the year. And he still doesn't know what the hell he's talking about. Contact him at murf@the5holes.com.