Ya gotta believe

Unlike the Virginia Tech Hokie football team, I wasn’t prepared for the game at FedEx Field on Saturday night. I didn’t pack my lucky outfit — the Sugar Bowl T-shirt, boat-size Nike’s, maroon and orange bead necklace, and Independence Bowl badge. Neither did I get into the hoopla surrounding the game between VT and Defending National Champion and current No. 1 — the University of Southern California. Prognosticators gave the Hokies as much chance of winning this preseason opener as Ralph Nader has of becoming president.

With low expectations for a VT victory, I didn’t plan on working hard at the game. I could wear whatever I wanted. I didn’t have to be in my seat an hour before kickoff to watch the team perform warm-ups and drills. I could leave anytime during the game to buy a hotdog or go to the bathroom. I could also talk with people around me while plays unfolded on the field.

I didn’t have to be immersed in the first game of the season. Usually that one is more of a scrimmage than a real Division I football game anyway. The first game is for the coaches: they find out who will hit, tackle, sustain blocks, execute, team well and play consistently. They clear the bench, playing everyone who dressed. It’s supposed to be a game that the team wins big, playing a not-so-good team like Arkansas State.

For VT to be playing the top ranked team right out of the gate was an anomaly. I didn’t expect miracles from a Hokie team that ended last season unranked and had begun the new one out of the Top 25 again. I thought I could relax and watch VT in its new role as USC’s Arkansas State.

It’s one reason why, on Saturday morning, I found it easy to joke with USC fans on the Metro. “Take it easy on us,” I said. In the D.C. museums, I listened to the guards laud the Trojans and give the Hokies little chance to win — even though they were VT fans. On the Metro, I said, “I hope you are right,” to three African-American teenagers who thought VT would win the game.

The detached feeling began to fade when I got to my seat high up in the top of the bowl that is FedEx stadium. That’s when the raucous noise of 91,655 fans assaulted my ears, their energy rippling the air. The noise started when the teams came onto the field and built to a crescendo when they huddled before heading to the locker room and final game preparation. The stands never quieted again. It was bedlam when the Marching Virginians started jumping and playing “Enter, Sandman” as the Hokies ran back out to start the game. I didn’t hear a note as the noise from below rolled up the sides of the stadium, flew past me and out into the night. The bouncing and yelling was so powerful that the stadium actually swayed beneath me. I wished I had worn my lucky outfit.

I would have ruined it anyway. With no wind, lots of heat and humidity, and tension, it would have been soaking wet very quickly. My passivity evaporated with the wind and the USC player’s kickoff. From the moment that Bryan Randall, VT quarterback, took the first snap, the team showed that they didn’t plan on becoming USC’s scrimmage victim. That was the fans’ signal to go to work. We made deafening noise so that their quarterback, Matt Leinart, couldn’t be heard as he called his signals; we stood and shouted on third down; we gave high-fives to everyone around us when the team scored; but most of all we focused on the plays. From the time that Randall took the first snap to the waning seconds of the fourth quarter, there was no down time. By the end of the game I was as tired, sweaty, and thirsty as the players must have been. But maybe not as disappointed with the loss. I got more than I expected from the game. They didn’t.

They made believers of me. Next time I will come prepared to win, too.