Congratulations Wes Miller!!

We here at Section 30 would like to congratulate UNC’s Wes Miller on his newsworthy effort against the Miami Hurricanes on Saturday. While the Tarheels did suffer a humiliating defeat at the Dean Dome, the effect Miller had on the game was not missed by Wes’ hometown newspaper, the Charlotte Observer. The Observer took a minute off from it’s Panther’s coverage to break us off this nugget regarding Miller’s performance against the U.

Miller, who is 5-foot-10, faced a tough matchup with Miami’s Guillermo Diaz. Miller fought through screens on each possession to harass Diaz, who is bigger (6-2) and quicker. But Miller stole the ball once from the Miami guard, and played a season-high 28 minutes.

As the Observer notes, Miller was able to apply the clamps to Miami’s all ACC contender Guillermo Diaz, holding him to a paltry 24 points, including 4-7 from the bonus-sphere.

Miller’s shining moment came when he recorded his first steal. Ever. Late in the first half, Diaz attempted to perform and “off the hizzle” and bounce the ball off Miller’s forehead. Diaz missed Miller’s forehead and loged the ball halfway down Miller’s throat, causing a turn-over.

After the game, the low-key Miller was as modest as ever. Miller spoke of Diaz’s play throughout the game, and laid out his plan for stopping him. “He’s really quick, so what I tried to do was stay in front of him. When that didn’t work, I tried to fall on the floor and get my feet tangled up. No way that foul gets called in Chapel Hill.”

Miller sees his work against Diaz as a stepping stone and has set some lofty goals for the remainder of the season. “I hope to keep Redick under 40. That wouldn’t be too bad for a former walk-on,” Miller says with a smile.

No it wouldn’t, Wes. Not too bad at all.

WITH DVD Now on Sale!

Wolfpack in the House! is now on sale through the Wolfpack Club for only $19.95 (plus $4.95 shipping & handling). This 5-minute DVD chronicles every highlight from the historic 2005 season, from T.J. Williams’ first and only touchdown catch of the season against Virginia Tech to the hoisting of the 2005 Meineke Car Care Championship trophy in Charlotte. The highlights are set to the hard-thumping BOOM! Here come the boys from the South, and focus primarily on Andre Brown’s big runs against Southern Miss and Florida State, Mario Williams and Manny Lawson ‘meeting at the quarterback’ against Maryland, and Brian Clark’s 95-yard touchdown grab against Boston College.

This 5-minute highlight DVD is accompanied by a 60-min blooper DVD, complete with every face mask, off sides, false start, illegal procedure, personal foul, fumble, and pick-six. It includes a special commentary by Jay Davis and Tremain Hall, who discuss their future careers in life insurance.

This is a must have for all diehard Wolfpack fans. All Wolfpack Club members that waited in the will call line at the bowl game will get a special 10% discount. Supplies are limited, call and order yours today!

The Extent of My Hypocrisy

“I’m surprisingly calm,” I IM’d Matt with half-hearted honesty.

“Just wish we could put it away,” he responded rather forebodingly.

Ten minutes later, after watching our fifth nine-point lead of the night dwindle back to only one, I wasn’t so calm.

Suddenly, fouls were being called on white jerseys, unremarkable in even the remotest of ways because these were fouls Alabama “had to give.” Having fouls to give doesn’t necessarily mean you can play defense more aggressively, but rather fight for your life through the use of legal intentional fouls; suddenly a handful of jersey off the ball is a clean foul. I’m not claiming innocence – everyone does it, including us. It’s one of the many ironies of basketball that you can bump and hack on the low post all night without incident, but after 39 minutes of play, suddenly the slightest of contact on an inbounds play results in a blown whistle.

And in Tuscaloosa on Thursday night, after a startling six team fouls in 39 minutes of play, whistles started screeching with such frequency and haste that time literally stood still, waning ever so delicately in measures of fractions rather than integers. The referees had held their collective breath with obstinacy the entire night whenever someone in a red jersey had been hacked, and yet now, with a minute to play, whistles were being unfurled with eager anticipation of a foul.

We’re shooting our first free throw with 25 seconds remaining when suddenly it’s to Bama’s advantage to foul us? So, yeah, of course I’m much less calm.

For Heaven’s sake, are we in Cameron?

And of course it isn’t helping that Larry Connelly is adding his Majerus-esque color commentary on how the ACC has two of the nation’s premier free throw shooters in J.J. Redick and Engin Atsur, who at 74.2% isn’t in the Top 10 in the ACC or the Top 100 in the nation, although he did sink both ends of a one-and-one.

But I digress.

We held on for the win to move to 9-1 and move up to #18 in the polls, but more importantly, at some point during the excitement of that game, I caught myself surrounded by the strangest ambiance: I was actually enjoying a State basketball game. Dare I say, I came to the stark realization that we are, indeed, a fun team to watch play.

I caught myself lauding Ced for being a beast in the paint, Cam for being the athlete I’ve always wished we’ve had, and Brackman for his inherent finesse. Above all, it’s quite ironic how much fun a game becomes when you quit worrying about the outcome – because it really doesn’t matter – and most of all you don’t expend all available energy lamenting speciously at the TV about Herb Sendek (it’s very likely he can’t hear you anyway).

I know it borders on the surreal, but my hypocrisy reaches only so far: I’ll admit that this team is actually pretty damn good. They play with fiery emotion, seamless intensity, and at times, a daunting finesse unmatched by any other Sendek team.

This team won’t win the ACC and it won’t play in Indianapolis, and I’m okay with that. This is my favorite team since Herb’s first in 1997; I like the fact that Ced, Brack, and Ev have become what Thornton, Kelley, and Inge were supposed to have been in 2000. I like Evtimov’s clumsy hooks, Atsur’s gritty, unrelenting defense, and Cam’s seemingly boundless athleticism.

And all-in-all, I have to admit Herb has done a fine job so far, and so I guess it was just time to give him a break and be a fan again. And that seems like a good comment to end on.

Like I said, my hypocrisy only extends so far.

The Pavoni Curse

Among my mom’s family, it’s notoriously branded The “Pavoni Curse.” Legend has it my grandfather came from a long line of iniquitous horse thieves running wild in Naples back in the day. Some have even claimed it’s why his father and mother came to America in 1914 – running from the law.

In and of itself, horse thievery doesn’t sound like the transgression that curses are made of, but there was a time when a horse thief was about the worst thing a man could be called. And when one of those horses belongs to a very important person, say a Man of God named The Pope, well then it all starts to make sense.

I’ve never for one moment doubted the curse is alive and kicking. It explains a lot, particularly the things that Ben so astutely noted “could only happen to Lucas.”

The Pavoni Curse is marked by above all things, its dreadful timing. For instance, the night before your first day at a new job, when you’re trying to make a good first impression to new co-workers and peers, your water heater explodes, soaking your living room, kitchen, and bathroom (narrowly missing your computer). And the way you find out about it is to slip and bust your ass when you get up to piss at 4am; as you fall towards an inch of water on the bathroom floor, you’re already blaming the Curse: I should’ve known.

You call maintenance and get the 24-hour Help Desk answering service, which is quite the misnomer because there is nothing even remotely reassuring about having an argument with some Indian – Sanji Gupta, not Squatting Stallion – about whether or not you, indeed, have a water pump.

“You do not have a water pump, sir.” (I translated that into what I believe he meant and not what I actually heard him say).

I’m pretty sure I do, since I’m standing on soaked carpet. Ok, it’s a f***ing water heater, whatever, just page maintenance for me.

Here’s where the Curse gets really fun. You haven’t showered since the previous afternoon after your workout; you haven’t shaved in a few days; and your hair is matted from sleeping on it. So you pour a bottle of water over your head, try to style it a little, forcing down your cowlick, you swab a little gel on, splash a little water on your face to get the crust out of your eyes, save a tad to brush your teeth, strategically apply some Old Spice High Endurance, put on your suit and tie, and begin your new career.

Around 10am, you realize there’s a huge chunk sticking out in the back that you missed, and you’re slightly bothered by your own body odor. You shake every hand in the company looking grizzled, like you just rolled in badly hung over from an all-nighter, which could easily be explained away after that Iowa game, where Rick Majerus turned an already dismal contest into an excruciating experience; after it had awkwardly, yet mercifully ended, you went to sleep counting turnovers rather than sheep.

And so you left your own, private office, locking-door and all, after your first day quite assured that everyone had wondered all day what they had done by hiring the kid that doesn’t have the proper hygiene to shave or shower, but puts on a suit anyway, hoping no one will notice.

The legend further claims that during World War I, just before they fled to America, my great grandmother buried a fairly large quantity of money, but told no one where, as she planned to return to Naples after the war to dig it up. She never did, though, dying in a tragic accident when my grandfather was four.

I’ll be in Austria in January. I reckon it’s about time I took a train to Naples, found that money, dug it up, and paid God for that horse.

Where are You Blissful Apathy?

Why do I feel like I’m in an abusive relationship? I feel like I’m taking a weekly beating and just when I can’t endure anymore, right when I’m on the brink of complete listlessness, Chuck combs down his ‘fro, puts on the charm, and delivers flowers. And I think: maybe it wasn’t so bad after all – I mean, there were some good times, right? So, of course, I decide on forgiveness.

Take last winter, for example. Mark Trestman came to town and all of the sudden Jay Davis became a 2,000-yard passer, Tremain Hall a 1,000 receiver, and Toney Baker and Andre Hall/Darrell Blackman/Bobbie Washington/Reggie Davis would each be 1,000-yard rushers. T.J Williams was back as the sure-handed All ACC tight end and the receiving corps of Clark, Barrett, and Hicks seemed solid enough to compliment Hall – all we lacked was a healthy Dunlap. The defensive line was by far and above the best in the nation and the linebackers were nothing at which to scoff; only the secondary and offensive line really warranted any alarm. Since next season Manny would be gone and almost certainly would Mario, this was the year to do it. The most important game of the season would just so happen to be the first game of the season, and the winner would almost undoubtedly have the inroads into the premier ACC championship game in Jacksonville. At worst, we had an outside shot at upsetting Miami or Florida State to get into a BCS game.

My buddy Mark even emailed me to confidently declare that Jay Davis would be the ACC Player of the Year and that we’d be 11-0 or 10-1. Close only counts in hand grenades and horseshoes.

Of course, we all know that our first tussle didn’t end quite like it was supposed to. VPI went back to Blacksburg with a hard-fought win, but we had pretty much moved the ball at will against a stout defense while Mario, Manny, and the Boys more than contained the most fascinating college quarterback since the older Vick Number Five was the then-most fascinating college quarterback ever. Sure, we lost 20-16, but we showed that we would cause some damage. Unfortunately, that damage would be limited.

The Colonels got trucked by Toney Baker, but then we invented fresh, new mistakes against Carolina before winning in Atlanta for the first time since 1988. Call it a fluke, but we are anything if not unpredictable. Soon enough we forgot that if we’re going to bite the tiger in his ass, we’d better have a way of dealing with his teeth, which we most certainly didn’t. And Chuck got to hear about it, as 57,500 booing Wolfpack fans let him know what they thought. I, personally, did not boo; I was too busy heading to the truck. Then, as predictable as the changing tides, we got pick-six’d by Wake, twice, again finding a way to take losing and despair to new levels in Winston.

It again looked hopeless against Southern Miss for 30 minutes with an utterly impressive four turnovers in the first half, but fortunately – at least that day – football is a 60-minute game. We found a starting running back and a starting quarterback and finally sacked someone and made some stops and did the absurd: we won.

And then, for no good reason, we went to Tallahassee and smacked the mighty Seminoles right in their feather-headed, savage, war-painted faces. Maybe the guys wanted to make a statement against all the kids they played against in high school. Maybe Weatherford really is as good as Chris Rix. Maybe our front seven is finding its groove and living up to its potential. Maybe Stone did just enough to not take us out of the game. Maybe Bobby has lost it and Chuck has found it. Or maybe we finally played the type of game we should have been playing all along, particularly against Carolina.

All I really know is that now I’m quite perturbed. Whereas I was once almost completely lethargic, now it pains me beyond explanation to know that we can win in Atlanta and Tallahassee, but not at home against Carolina and Clemson. It irritates me even more to know that now we actually have a shot at a bowl – perhaps even the Peach Bowl, with help – which by no stretch of the imagination should even be in the realm of possibility. It flusters the hell out of me to think that all that banished hope is working its way back into me, slowly replacing all that blissful apathy.

And what scares me the most is that we could have given up, but now we’re ripe for even greater disappointment. Should we win in Boston this weekend, it’ll set up yet another pivotal meeting against Maryland to end the season, and we all know how that’s worked out for us in years past.

NFL Week 8 Picks

It’s high time I started spreading the wealth around. Look under the couch coushins, sell your watch, mortgage your house and call your bookie.

It’s Big Worm’s NFL picks.

Before I give the picks this week I want to throw out the disclaimer that these are some of the worst lines I’ve ever seen. It’s almost like the boys in Vegas want us to lose.

Washington +3.5 over the GIANTS – This is going to be a close one. The Giants snuck past the Broncos and their comatose coach last weekend, I think their luck runs out on Sunday.

BENGALS -7.5 over Packers – Ahman Green, Javon Walker, and Robert Ferguson are hurt. Even the closet squatting back-up Najeh Davenport is down for this one. Meanwhile, the Bengals are reeling from their home loss to the Steelers last week. The Bengals take this one going away.

DETROIT -3 over Chicago – The Lions suck, but they are at home. They have a nice run defense and will force Kyle Orton to make some plays. Not sure it’s going to happen.

Minnesota +7 over the CAROLINA – The Panthers can’t stop anyone and their quarterback is color blind. I think the Panthers win, but it’s going to be close.

Oakland -2 over TENNESSEE – Straight Cash Homey

DALLAS -7.5 over Arizona – Adios Jose. Doesn’t matter who the QB is in Zona, they still can’t stop the Cowboys, even though half of their offense qualifies for a Senior Citizens discount.

Cleveland pk over HOUSTON – Here’s to chasing the dream. Lose this one and they’re halfway to 0-16.

Miami +2 over NAWLINS – I don’t know why, and I don’t care.

Jacksonville -3 over ST LOUIS – Jamie Martin Jamie Martin Jamie Martin Jamie Martin Jamie Martin Jamie Martin Jamie Martin Jamie Martin Jamie Martin Jamie Martin

SAN DIEGO -4.5 over Kansas City – The Chargers will cover, but not by much. If this were a perfect world, Drew Brees would break his leg and the Football Jesus would be resurrected to lead a heroic fourth quarter rally. As it stands, he’ll hold a clipboard and watch LT run.

SAN FRAN +10 over Tampa – No way the San Fran loses by double figures to Chris Simms. Alex Smith, for once in your life, step up and be somebody. Michael Clayton continues to single handedly kill fantasy football teams all over the world.

DENVER +3 over Philly – Jake and his moustache get it done against the Eagles this week. The Eagles have looked atrocious in their last few games. They’re one good Donovan McNabb sneeze away from being done for the season.

NEW ENGLAND -7 over Buffalo – I wonder what Bill Belichick’s record is all time against Kelly Holcomb-led teams is? My guess is 92-0. Make is 93.

PITTSBURGH -8.5 over Baltimore – The Raven’s haven’t lost a step since losing Boller. The transition from crappy quarterback to shitty quarterback has been nearly seamless.

What If?

State has not won the ACC in basketball since 1987 and in football since 1979 which, consequently, is the year I was born. Dare I make that parallel? I’ve been oft troubled that State’s prolonged flirtation with mediocrity is my penitence for not having my priorities in order. After all, it’s just sports.

But what if the last 20 years at State had been pleasantly different; as fans we weren’t perpetually frustrated and traumatized by the disappointment, missed opportunities, and unfulfilled expectations of this year, which at times has been downright laughable. Would my personality be somehow less palpable or genuine because I haven’t suffered through the turmoil of being a State fan, oft ranting in the most maniacal and errant of ways?

What if all the tribulation could all be traced back to one instance, one distinct period or instance where the future was being foreshadowed, and yet we were too reluctant, too complacent, or far too arrogant to see it?

What if Charles Shackelford and Chris Washburn had actually scored above 600 on the SAT and then actually went to class and studied just enough to maintain the minimum 1.6 GPA required by the NCAA to remain eligible? Then would the intense mistrust by the academic faculty for the athletics department have never developed? And what if Jimmy V had run a clean program and there had never been a shoe scandal and the local media hadn’t launched a malicious attack on the program and he had never died from that horrible cancer?

How different would the 90s have been if we hadn’t lost Chuck Kornegay to Villanova because of the aforementioned increased academic restrictions and Donald Williams and Jerry Stackhouse had followed up on their verbal commitments and signed with State? Would we then have coasted through the 1994-95 regular season, won the ACC Tournament with style and finesse, and made a Final Four run – dare I say, National Championship run – with a roster consisting of Kornegay (PF), Stackhouse (F), Williams (SG), Todd Fuller (C), and Ishua Benjamin (G) starting, with Clint Harrison (PG), and the invariably valuable Lakista McCuller (SG), coming off the bench.

Unfortunately, it is asinine to ponder just such a scenario. Instead, Les Robinson came and cleaned up a much-maligned program – the program he loved so dearly – and stepped aside when the appropriate time came. After starting 0-8 in the conference in 1997, Herb Sendek orchestrated victories over Top 10 teams Clemson and Wake Forest in February and ultimately split the second half of the schedule and had us at a surprisingly respectable 4-12 going into the tournament, where, it would seem, we had no chance whatsoever as an eight-seed. Just imagine, if you will, that Damon Thornton’s hip had been healthy that March and Justin Gainey, Jeremy Hyatt, Clint Harrison, Ishua Benjamin, and Danny Strong had not been physically drained from four straight days of remarkable basketball and we defeated Carolina and completed our unparalleled tournament run that fateful afternoon?

Suppose, if you can, Damien Wilkins in fact had been the Next David Thompson and Damon Thornton hadn’t got that technical at College Park in 2000 and we didn’t slip into a 0-for-February skid, but instead went into March with one of the best backcourts we’d had in a decade? Without the looming pain of that astonishingly disheartening season, would Herb Sendek – hate him or not – have become the dividing force of the State faithful that he is today?

And we can forever speculate, inane as it may be, on whether or not Philip Rivers would have won the Heisman Trophy once or twice had Norm Chow stayed in Raleigh just two more years. It is equally ridiculous to fancy Greg Golden making that interception against Georgia Tech to keep us unbeaten in 2002; surely we would have then proceeded to harness the momentum of that play into a Sugar Bowl victory over Georgia, which subsequently would have begun our period of national prominence under Chuck Amato The Legend rather than Chuck The Clown (who might or might not have replaced Mike O’Cain since Chris Coleman would have likely gotten into the end zone against Carolina that damp, chilly Thursday night in Charlotte in 1999).

Undoubtedly, Football Jesus, having won back-to-back Heismans under Chow, would have declared for the NFL draft after his junior season and been selected by Cincinnati, ahead of runner-up Carson Palmer and would be leading the resurgent Bengals atop the AFC North this season. Consequently, Jay Davis would have sucked as a sophomore in 2003, when our defense wasn’t even remotely spectacular and we had no real chance anyway without Rivers under center. Thus, Davis – or hell, Stone even, as a freshman – would have learned from his mistakes and would have become a solid-enough quarterback to do just enough to let the nation’s number one defense carry us back to the BCS for the second time in three years – it sure would have been fun to have spent New Year’s in New Orleans.

Naturally, that is the ultimate What If scenario that would have left most of us complaining anyway because we were 12-0 and had defeated Ohio State, Virginia Tech, Miami, Auburn (convincingly), and most importantly, Carolina. But because D-IA college football doesn’t have a playoff system, we were the odd man out. Of course we’ll play USC next weekend; just name the time and the place.

And we’d be the front-runners in the Atlantic Division again this season and we’d all be complaining that we’re on the outside of the BCS looking in, again, right behind Alabama. I swear, if we were Notre Dame we’d be up there right now – I mean, we’ve won 25 straight games.

But alas, no matter how the story is told, the stark reality is that Julius Hodge will have always fouled Caron Butler in the Second Round in 2002 and we will have forever blown that 16 point lead to Duke in the 2003 ACC Championship. Josh Powell will have always left after his sophomore year, for whatever reasons, and he wasn’t here when we could have really used him in March 2004 and we will for eternity have blown an 11-point lead over Vanderbilt with under four minutes remaining in the Second Round that same season. And while it will likely be a point of contention for many years to come, Rick Page will have always convinced Jim Knight that T.A.’s knee was in fact down before he crossed the goal line in Chapel Hill and that the points were to be taken off the scoreboard. God bless the line judges.

And as it is being written, we are suffering through another season of penalties and turnovers and a bitter and disdainful loss to our most hated rival yet again. And we continue to hear the pleas for patience and support. And we’d love to just be able to give up completely. Which might seem a lot easier when I cut that $600 check for LTR and WPC dues in December.

Yet, as stubbornly loyal State fans, we have never relented, wholeheartedly anticipating next year, resigning ourselves to our misfortunes, reluctant to look back and draw energy on what could have been, opting instead to keep our hope in next season, when it finally might be our turn.

And of course, it could always be worse: Philip Rivers could have gone to Auburn to play tight end.

Worm’s Employment Postulate

Worm’s Employment Postulate states that as the level of a person’s employment increases, the amount of free time on that person’s hands decreases. The inverse is also true. The less gainful employment a person possesses, the more time they have available to do, well, whatever.

A person with a fulfilling, successful career would have neither the time or the inclination to even check this site out.

Your average Joe (our control group) that has your average Job, may be mildy interested in checking out our little site and maybe even contributing on occasion.

Our third level is the person with either no Job, or not enough Job. Because this person has no career to speak of and no hopes of ever finding meaningful work, the only good we as society can expect from these people are astonishingly abstract yet meaningless theories and wonderfully planned tailgates, as evidenced below.

This also sheds some light into the ‘Bums are Fun’ Corrallary that shows if a person cannot contribute to society in a meaningful way, that person should use their time to entertain the working public.

Lucas’ Uniform Theory of Winning

I know why we’ll never win a national championship; actually, it’s just a theory really, but a working one, and the great thing about a theory is that is can neither be proved or disproved.

I have defined it as the “We’ll Never Win a National Title Because We Do Not Wear Traditional Uniforms Theory,” but laymen commonly refer to it as the “Style Over Substance Theory.”

The principle behind the theory is really quite simple: With few exceptions, only teams that sport a traditional uniform over time will ever win a national title. In the last thirty years, twenty teams have won at least a share of the national title:

Alabama – 1992, 1979, 1978 (split)
Brigham Young – 1984
Clemson – 1981
Colorado – 1990 (split)
Florida – 1996
Florida State – 1999, 1993
Georgia – 1980
Georgia Tech – 1990 (split)
LSU – 2003 (split)
Miami – 2001, 1991 (split), 1989, 1987, 1983
Michigan – 1997 (split)
Nebraska – 1997 (split), 1995, 1994
Notre Dame – 1988, 1977
Ohio State – 2002
Oklahoma – 2000, 1985, 1975
Penn State – 1986, 1982
Pittsburgh – 1976
Southern Cal – 2004, 2003, 1978 (split)
Tennessee – 1998
Washington – 1991 (split)

The underlying commonality between each of these teams is that they each wore what could be classified as a traditional style uniform when they won the national title. And by traditional I don’t necessarily mean “plain,” as is the case with Penn State, Notre Dame, or Alabama, but rather “time-honored,” as with Southern Cal, Oklahoma, or Florida State.

With the exception of Brigham Young, who let Nike butcher one of the most stylistic uniforms in college football, and perhaps Washington, which has switched between gold and purple helmets over time, very little has changed with the aforementioned teams’ uniform designs.

Minor design changes were made to Miami’s uniforms – green pants, green jerseys, weird patterns – but most of this has come only during their most recent span of success. They won four national titles with the basic orange jerseys on white pants, as well as the well-recognized “U” logo on the helmet.

Clemson has made slight changes over the years, throwing in some purple jersey/pants combos, but the Tiger paw and a basic orange-on-white design has remained the staple of their uniform. Florida State has flirted with garnet and white pants, but only on rare occasions.

Nebraska, Tennessee, Florida, Florida State, and Colorado have all tested different striping patterns on their pants for short times, but otherwise my research has shown that there have been almost no changes made to any of the other teams’ uniforms over time.

My research has led me to postulate that these schools rely on substance rather than style, which must be quite the conundrum to certain coaches and fans that believe that the only way to build a winning program and land top recruits is to show an aptitude for trendy styles. The underlying theme among the national champions of the past thirty years is that they don’t bend to the marketing whims of Nike and Adidas every other year to keep national exposure on their program; they rely, oddly enough, simply on winning.

On the whole, these programs consistently maximize the talents of their players and win consistently based upon superior coaching and hard-nosed, disciplined, and error-free football. What kind of ridiculous strategy is that?

The common theme among so many college football pundits and fans is that recruits can only be landed through flashy offensive schemes, blaring intros, and trendy uniform designs. And yet, over the past thirty years, this philosophy just doesn’t add up. Teams like Southern Cal, Nebraska, Michigan, and Ohio State continue to win consistently without any of the flair or pizzazz.

State should cut out the fireworks and big screen intros, put on white helmets – with red block “S,” of course – red jerseys, white pants, and go out there and hold onto the ball – and not the receiver – and act more like Barry Sanders than Terrell Owens, and simply play football. We’ll define our own traditional style and get our winning ways started.

But I guess it’s the old chicken or egg argument: we have to land top recruits to win and we can’t land top recruits with bland football. I just don’t buy it; winning takes care of itself, no matter how bland it is.

Until then, my theory holds true.

NBC17 to Re-Air Classic Wolfpack Game

GOPACK.COM – In an effort to remind Wolfpack fans of a time when expectations were soaring, the future looked promising, and Chuck Amato was still likeable, NBC17 will offer an alternative to ESPN’s live broadcast of NC State’s game at Georgia Tech tonight.

At 8pm, NBC17 will re-broadcast the 2003 Gator Bowl victory over traditional powerhouse Notre Dame. The Wolfpack completed a historic 10-3 season with a 28-6 victory over the Fighting Irish in Jacksonville on New Years Day in 2003.

The arrangement was made between Athletics Director Lee Fowler, in conjunction with Wolfpack Club President Bobby Purcell, and NBC17 Station Manager Bill Smith.

Fowler commented from the Case Athletic Center that “[State] hasn’t won in Atlanta since 1988 and it’s highly doubtful they will tonight, so we thought it was a good opportunity to give our fans an alternative viewing choice. They can turn to the 2003 Gator Bowl on NBC17 and be reminded of how promising the future at State looked after that season – Philip was coming back for his senior season, we had one of the best recruiting classes in history, and the schedule was set up to make an incredible statement – and then they can flip to the live game against Georgia Tech on ESPN and be reminded of the grim reality they’re facing as fans, and that all those expectations were decidedly unfounded. Pipe dreams, really. But then we hope they flip it back to NBC and get all unnecessarily excited again, because that’s when the checkbooks come out.”

“It just makes good sense,” said Purcell over the phone. “We really played up that Gator Bowl victory – as overrated as it now seems – and set record sales for season tickets the past three seasons. That 2003 highlight video was a hot item as well and we should really try to market it again. But now that Chuck Amato is a total joke coaching a bunch of circus monkeys, we decided that it would be a good idea to play off our fan base’s nostalgia and keep the money flowing in, so the arrangement was made, I’m happy to say.

Coach Amato was available for comment, as always, never one to shy away from attention. “I want a big red nose, I want some floppy shoes. I want to squirt a flower, squirt it on you; like all the bad clowns do. I want to juggle bowling pins in the sun. I want to join the circus; the circus looks like fun. I’ll sit and work the gates, or I can guess your weight. I’ll even sell the corndogs; I don’t care, as long as I am there (state fair). I’ll hand out baseballs at the dunk tank; I’ll ride my funny car laughing all the way to the bank. I’m a Carney Man.”