Bouncing back

There is no defining moment in any man's life.

After watching West Virginia's crushing loss to Pittsburgh on Saturday night, I stayed tuned to the postgame press conference of West Virginia coach Rich Rodriquez and almost could not bear to witness what he was going through. I don't know that I have ever seen a more disheartened look on a coach's face in my life as I saw in Coach Rod. He was so distraught that he was unable to focus on the questions being asked as his mind raced back over the events that had just transpired on the field. West Virginia was one game away from playing for the national championship. The Mountaineers were one simple slam-dunk victory against a 28-point underdog from having a chance to bring home their first national crown. But after a couple of missed field goals, a quarterback's dislocated thumb and a failed fourth-and-3 attempt, Almost Heaven quickly turned into a certain kind of hell.

As coaches tend to do, Rodriquez took the entire blame for this devastating loss upon himself. Unfortunately, there were more than a few Mountaineer fans who were all too eager to have him do just that.

Mickey Furfari, who has covered the Mountaineers for 61 years – over half their football playing existence – had this to say in the Charleston Daily Mail about West Virginia's loss:

There was more riding on that 13-9 loss to rival Pitt on Saturday night than any other contest in WVU's 114 years of football. … I know there could have been a crushing collapse here and there over the years. But it most certainly couldn't have been a proven powerful team with so much at stake for itself, the university and the Mountain State.

That's a pretty heavy burden to put on any one man's shoulders.

As I tried to put Rodriquez's press conference out of my mind, my thoughts kept drifting back to 1970 and an earlier matchup in this Backyard Brawl. It was the final game of the season in my father's first year as the head coach at West Virginia. I was 14 years old and the proud son of the No.1 football coach in the state of West Virginia.

Dad was up 35-8 at halftime in an era when a 27-point lead might as well be 100. Pitt was desperate to keep the game close and put in double tight ends and a full house backfield at halftime and decided to run the ball on every play to keep the clock running and the score from getting more out of hand. They also decided to go for it on every fourth down to keep West Virginia from getting the ball back. Well, those huge sons of steel mill workers from western Pennsylvania were soon pounding the heck out of the smaller, faster Mountaineers. Slowly, and quite unexpectedly, they began to claw their way back into the game. In the second half, Pittsburgh made every single fourth-down conversion. The Panthers scored their final touchdown with seconds left on the clock to achieve an unbelievable 36-35 comeback victory. For West Virginia and its young head coach, Bobby Bowden, it was the most humiliating defeat ever suffered in the long, bitter rivalry.

The Mountaineer fans who were in attendance that day in Pittsburgh felt humiliated. They were stunned and they were embarrassed. I remember seeing my father spit upon as he walked dejectedly out of the tunnel.

It was the low-point of his coaching career. If you were to ask him today what was the worst loss he has ever experienced in his 50-odd years of coaching he would still say … 1970, Pitt/West Virginia, 36-35.

If you took a snapshot of my father's coaching career on that day to represent his entire life's work, he would have been labeled a failure, a terrible coach. But after almost 40 more years he has accumulated two national championships, a current total of 373 wins and the record as the winningest coach in Division 1-A history. He is enshrined in the College Football Hall of Fame and has meant more to Florida State University than any other single man in school history. He has been the guiding force for thousands of young men who have gone on to be great football players, great citizens and great fathers. But on that dreary day back in the fall of 1970 he was a failure, unworthy to be called the Mountaineer coach.

Well, the current Mountaineer coach is carrying an even bigger burden today. He probably feels like he let down his players, friends, family and fellow West "by God" Virginians. Rich Rodriguez is a great coach. He loves the Mountaineers. As a WVU and football letterman, I think he will one day end up as the greatest coach ever in the history of West Virginia University. The memory of this game will fade over time and will be overshadowed by championships instead.

Mountaineer fans need to rally behind our coach right now – we need to hug his neck and tell him how much we appreciate what he has done and is still doing for our football program. This one game will not define Coach Rod's career. But the way we West Virginia fans respond to this gut-wrenching loss will define our true spirit.

Make no mistake though, Rich will never forget this loss – just ask my dad.