November 01, 2006

R.I.P. The Streak, 2003-2006

R.I.P. The Streak, 2003-2006
donwload emoul

It had to end. All streaks have to end. I knew. He knew it. We all knew it had to end.

It was supposed to end dramatically, maybe a MAC Championship game, perhaps a bowl game against a highly ranked opponent. The script called for a nailbiter, the Falcons playing with fury and intensity, falling just short. That's how it was supposed to end. Because it did have to end.

But not like this, not this way. Not to this team, not to a team that had lost 20 games over three seasons. Not in a meaningless non-conference game on a blustery afternoon in a barely filled stadium. Not by being outdone in terms of intensity, not by failing to make the plays that needed to be made.

But reality didn't follow the script.

No need to rehash the game. Midway through the fourth quarter, Temple and BG fans alike were saying "that's it, this game is over." As that sunk in, Noah's eyes welled up and he buried his face in my shoulder. "We're going to lose, Dad. We're going to lose to Temple."

We stayed to the bitter end, walking to the tunnel where the team exited the field, as the Owls celebrated like, well, like a team that hadn't won in 20 games. The Falcons walked off with slumped shoulders, heads hanging. Coach Brandon was the last off the field, jaw set hard, brows deeply furrowed. I wondered what he was thinking at that moment. In particular, I wondered what he was going to say to his players in the lockerroom. I wondered what he was going to say to his coaches on the ride home. I turned to see Noah and our buddy Phil, a Temple senior, going at it in a friendly way, though Noah was still obviously upset. Then I wondered what I was going to say to Noah.

It took a while to get to that. We walked in silence to the car and didn't say much until we reached the expressway.

I asked Noah what he thought.

"It's over," he said flatly. "I can't believe it."

Was he done being a BG fan?

"Da-aaa-d," he said. "Come on."

Does this mean BG wasn't a good team?

"Every team has to lose, Dad," he said. "What's important is what they do next."

What did that mean?

"They have to practice harder and try harder in their next game."

I hoped he was right, that it would be that simple.

* * *
Looking back, I am more thankful than ever to everyone who helped make Project Falcon a reality. As bad as it was to see The Streak end in Philly against Temple, it would have been much more excruciating if it were the only BG game we saw this year. For that loss to have been our only memory of BG footall for 2006 might have been more than either one of us could bear.

Noah bounced back pretty quickly. He wanted to play NCAA Football on the Playstation after our post-game dinner, completing another game in his Race for the Heisman as BG's freshman running back. He pulled out a BG shirt for school Monday and when we started plotting our jack-o-lantern designs, he said he wanted a Falcon head carved into one of the pumpkins. As we were scooping out seeds for toasting, I suggested that he could start a new winning streak next Fall. "Yeah, Dad," he said. "And maybe this one will be even longer."

During trick-or-treating, he saw someone with a Temple shirt and started giving him a hard time. I told him we didn't have a lot of room to talk, after all, we had lost Saturday.

"That doesn't matter," he said. "Even though we lost, we're still a better team than Temple and that will always be true."

So Temple ended The Streak. But it failed to shake the dedication of one Falcon fan. Make that two.donwload emoul

Posted by 1987alum at 08:25 AM | Comments (0) donwload emoul

October 20, 2006

It couldn't have been any sweeter

Quite simply, this was not only the best homecoming ever, it was better than any I could have imagined.

I worried that our trip would be a letdown after all the excitement over Project Falcon and our sudden ability to make it to BG this year. My fears were for naught. By the time we overcame the insanity that is Northwest Airlines and arrived safely at our hotel in Swanton, all was right with the world.

we made it down to BG in time to grab some BG stuff and have dinner at the Student Union. Noah was sporting his new "Iron Chef" t-shirt and that caught the attention of one of the students, who struck up a conversation about the Food Network series. Yup, my 9-year-old son had found a kindred "Iron Chef" spirit on the BG campus.

After we swung by the supermarket for our tailgating supplies, we returned to our room for our other night-before-the-game ritual - making a sign. As usual, Noah came up with the idea, I sketched it out and outlined it with a Sharpie, and he colored it in.

We met BGSUFN for breakfast the next morning. It was great to shake the hand of the person who spearheaded Project Falcon!

After we layered up on clothes, we headed toward BG. Noah realized he had forgotten to get his sister something and we made a quick stop at SBX before heading to The Doyt. After we paid for parking and headed toward the tailgate area, I pointed out the tents lining the East side of the stadium. "Dad, this is going to be an awesome day."

We immediately connected with hammb and FalconFanatic, whose camper was a big, I mean B-I-G hit with Noah. "Dad, look at this," he said "This is luxury." Who could argue?

By the time Freak showed up, I couldn't have imagined the day getting any better. The grills were smoking away, the kids were playing like, well, kids all over the field, Johnny Swoop was on top of Bill's Hill, looking like he was going to plant a flag, Iwo Jima-like; meanwhile, many of us - Bleeding Orange, Metz, Freak, Class of 61 and others - relished a beautiful Fall day, a picture-perfect homecoming with great food, cold drinks and good company. Seeing 62hartmom and Andrew brought back so many great memories; it was great to see that they, too, see BG as a place that welcomes you back!

Noah and I made our way over to Tent City in time for the player walk, which is always inspiring. I must say that having the band there really adds a special something.

We returned to the tailgate area in time for an interview with The Bryan Times - BGSUFN's local paper - which did a tremendous story on Project Falcon. I liked that they mentioned AZZ.com prominently and appreciated their choice of quotes.

As usual, we waited longer than we probably should have before heading toward the stadium. As we walked around the South end, I thought that Noah would see the inflatables in the Kids Zone and ask to delay going to our seats. But today he was focused on football and made a bee line toward the gates.

We set up shop in great seats on the 40-yard line, up near the top of the stadium - an awesome view of all the action. Noah made sure everyone around us knew what they were in store for them - "I hope you're ready for a lot of noise."

It didn't take long to find out they weren't.

The two women in the group in front of us turned, scowled and covered their ears each time Eastern Michigan faced a third down, which, of course, prompted us to unleash the cow bells in full furor. Early in the third quarter, the folks to our left bailed out. All of this, caused us to make even more noise.

After a halftime break, I asked Noah what he thought. His analysis was succinct - "I don't know, Dad. I think we should be beating Eastern Michigan badly, but they're keeping it close." I agreed. We looked to be playing pretty well, but the scoreboard showed a different story. "Our defense is going to have to win this one for us, Noah," I told him as we grabbed a snack and trudged back to our seats.

The last four games we had seen prior to this one had probably spoiled us; we hadn't seen anything resembling a nailbiter since the 2003 Motor City Bowl. Noah sensed The Streak could be slipping away; when BG seized the lead for the lead for the final time, I turned to him and said, "It's up to the defense now, Noah, they have to win this game for us." Just when I thought he couldn't find another level, he increased the volume. On the last defensive drive, I loved how the crowd rose to its feet and even the relatively silent folks seemed to finally make some noise. After the last stop, Noah jumped into my arms. The game ended and we shook hands with BGSUFN - "The Streak lives!" he reminded us.

Almost immediately, Noah said "Can we go down on the field now, Dad, then get some autographs?" I smiled - it was just two years ago that Mrs. Hart helped Noah secure his first BG autographs. We spent some time on the field, shaking hands with Corey Partridge and snapped a picture with Pete Winovich. We then moved to the lockerroom area, where Noah filled up two foam-filled footballs with autographs. I was once again reminded how well the majority of our Falcons carry themselves - a credit to our university.

After most folks were long gone, we found ourselves back in the parking lot with the diehards - Fanatic & Mr. Fanatic packing up the camper and Freak firing up the grill for a final round of brats. Like all good things, this day had to come to an end. We both fell asleep watching ESPN.

- - - - - - -

A late flight home allowed us the opportunity to extend our special weekend. We took the time to check out the wind farm west of BG, then returned to campus for a trip down Memory Lane. We slipped into West Hall to check out the BG News and Key haunts, then made our way to Anderson Arena, taking advantage of a propped open door to watch the women's basketball team practice. We examined the buildings along the way, me providing a stream of memories and vague recollections, Noah staying interested enough for me to continue. Well, maybe he was just humoring me. Nonetheless, we made our way over to the Union for a quick snack, then found a small group gathered in the Mac Quad. They were engaged in some sort of medieval game, using foam weapons and active imaginations to enact battle scenarios. Noah found this fascinating, watching three or four rounds with subtle variations.

We said good-bye, jumped in the car and headed north. I asked Noah if he wanted to take the back way or go around past The Doyt one more time. "Let's go past The Doyt, Dad," he said. When we pulled past the stadium, I slowed down to give us one more look. The tents were still up, though the nearby grounds were void of people. "Good-bye, Doyt," he said. "Good-bye, Bowling Green."

- - - - - - -

I still have no idea how to properly thank everyone who made this incredible weekend possible. Your thoughtfulness and generosity continue to leave me humbled. This homecoming weekend was testament to everything that makes Bowling Green State University special.donwload emoul

Posted by 1987alum at 01:02 PM | Comments (0) donwload emoul

October 09, 2006

Setting the tone for Saturday's game

Noah had a rough second half Saturday. He finally made his way back to defense and played pretty inspired ball at CB and LB throughout the first half. Somewhere in that nearly 9-year-old head of his, a switch flipped at halftime and he looked like a different kid in the second half.donwload emoul

By the time the other team was mounting a game-tying drive early in the fourth, he seemed helpless. The game ended in a tie and I had to have a heart-to-heart discussion with him - about intensity, about desire, about pride.donwload emoul

He took it all in and on Sunday afternoon, after we finished up some yard work, he asked if we could practice some football - I can safely say this is the first time I've heard that request. "And I can I wear your Falcon helmet instead of my helmet?"donwload emoul

So we zipped over to the middle school field and he strapped up. We ran a few basic drills, specifically working reading and reacting on defense. After several reps, it started to sink in; he was even using good pursuit angles.donwload emoul

Then I challenged him - "block me." On the snap, he stood straight up and I simply pushed him back. He stumbled, staggered, then landed on his backside. "Better come out lower," I suggested. He laughed and lined up again. On the snap, he came out lower and I pushed him back. "Better hit harder than that." He looked at me like I had three heads. "Just hit me," I told him. Each play, he came off the ball harder, coming in low and driving his feet.donwload emoul

We ended with our passing skeleton, running ins, outs, posts, flags, up & outs. We went up and down the field a few times, turning back on the goal line for one last trip up. "Touchdown?" he asked. Sure, I said. On go, he ran 10 yards, then cut toward the middle of the field. I floated it, giving him a chance to get under the ball. He caught it with two hands and turned up field, as I broke into a gallop behind him. He knew I was after him; I could tell because I could hear him already breaking into a giggle.donwload emoul

By the time he hit the 20, I was close enough to swat at the ball, which he pulled closer to his body. He angled toward the corner of the end zone and tumbled in, laughing hysterically.donwload emoul

As we drove home, I asked him what he needed to focus on. "Be aggressive, stay focused," he said, "no matter what's happening, even if we're getting beat or the other team gets a big gain." I pointed out that BG had fallen behind Ohio State big Saturday. Did he think that they played with less intensity because they were getting beaten? He raised his eyebrows and shook his head. "Heck no," he said.donwload emoul

We talked about BG's struggles at home and the upcoming Eastern Michigan homecoming game. He mumbled something under his breath as we were unloading the car. "What was that?" I asked.donwload emoul

"Dad, it's like those commercials on TV," he said. "We must defend this house. No one should be able to beat us at The Doyt. We must defend this house."donwload emoul

Posted by 1987alum at 09:56 AM | Comments (0) donwload emoul