Man, that loss to Akron was sort of heart-wrenching.
To somebody not really familiar with N.C. State football, last Saturday’s game might have seemed like quite a tragedy. However, here in Raleigh we all kind of knew this was going to happen.
Somewhere in every State fan’s gut, right between the half-digested hushpuppies and barbecue, was the innate knowledge that something bad was going to happen. If you honestly went into the game thinking we wouldn’t find a way to mess it up, I hope you didn’t drink too much beer while tailgating.
Next time, you’ll have to remember to save some room to swallow your pride.
I didn’t find myself too bothered in the loss. Part of that might have been low expectations, a general acceptance of the inevitability of disappointment that can only come from three years of post-Rivers football.
On the other hand, I mostly relish the fact that — in the long run — there are a lot of people out there looking out for our University’s best interests in terms of athletics. Even as we struggle with athletic mediocrity, I have faith that there are some guys out there, from wealthy alumni to hardcore fans, willing to support our team through the thick and thin because they see the value of having a nationally recognized sports program.
Yeah man, those guys and I see eye to eye.
A lot of folks get pretty discouraged about our big teams when we lose a lot or aren’t playing our best. Heck, it’s hard not to feel bad when you’re dropping straight games to those wussies over at Chapel Hell. People start getting dangerous thoughts about the dough being pumped into our revenue sports.
“Why are we wasting so much money on expanding our stadiums?”
“Why are we paying our coaches so much?”
“Why is this gate staff member feeling me up?”
Really though, why shouldn’t we be pumping up our revenue sports like football and basketball? Not only do these sports result in more green for the University’s general waste-money fund. They ultimately tend to bring us more valuable intangible benefits.
You don’t believe me right now, but just wait 10 years or so.
You’ll be all graduated and living in some God-forsaken state like New Jersey. People in your said non-North Carolina location don’t give a flying Amato if you graduated from Wake Tech, Pfeiffer or even ever-loving Elon. They might have heard of NCSU, but they more than likely don’t know jack about the school.
“Oh, that guy went to a college in North Carolina that isn’t Duke or UNC-Chapel Hill,” they’ll think smugly.
The only way to get any respect in today’s day and age is to be recognizable, and people tend to recognize big-time sports like football, basketball and baseball. If someday down the road NCSU becomes consistently excellent at playing ball, it’ll all be more than worth it. Ten years from now, when you’re chatting with what’s-her-face by the water cooler and you mention that you went to the biggest university in North Carolina, she’ll say, “Hey man, aren’t you pretty far up there in the rankings?”
Respect — that’s exactly what Aretha Franklin was talking about, and that’s exactly what we’ll reap when the harvest we’ve been sowing over the past several years finally matures.
When people can recognize a particular school from the throng of universities in our country, they’ll associate its name with more than good football. They’ll associate that school with excellent academics, research and everything else that makes a good school a good school.
Even a room full of monkeys banging on typewriters recognized athletic achievements, so we might gain a couple of spots in the U.S. News and World Report‘s college rankings.
Deep down, we all know people pretty much get out of their educations what they put in to them, whether you’re sipping the blood of the working class in your ivy tower or bumming it up at your local community college. I still think, however, that NCSU has a lot to offer the average student. Let’s keep chugging away at our sports programs, because the benefits of a good ball team are more than bragging rights — they’re the respect and recognition that our fine institution deserves.
E-mail Ken at [email protected].