An All-Nighter

The Sugar Bowl is a little over a day away and my stomach is already twisting itself in knots over what fate lies my beloved Irish. Like an alcoholic who drinks too much to forget that he has a drinking problem, I decided to indulge in the slew of January 1 games offered by our kind friends at ESPN, CBS, ABC, and Fox. Yes, Fox. Apparently Ed Goren and co. were able to gobble up nearly every BCS broadcast sans the Rose Bowl through 2010. I hope you all like those ridiculous transitional robots jumping on your screen every other minute. Personally, all I need to watch a big-time bowl game is a clear screen and Keith Jackson. Since Jackson's retirement last season, all I can ask for is a screen that doesn't include jumping robots mimicking a player's warm-up routine. All that got flushed right into the sewers when I searched my TV's digital guide for the Fiesta Bowl, which I found to be on Fox. Then I saw Chris Rose in the pre-game. Chris Rose? Isn't he supposed to be announcing some poker tournament in Podunk, Wisconsin or hosting that ridiculous sports show with Spider Sally? Nope, he's sitting right next to Barry Switzer and Jimmie Johnson, blabbing away like he knows what he's talking about. Needless to say, I wasn't happy about this Fox invasion, and it sickens me that I'm forced to watch my bowl games on the same channel that aired Temptation Island and (even worse) Temptation Island II.

But hey, at least the game was good.

Well, that's a huge understatement, considering the 2007 Tostitos Fiesta Bowl may have been the greatest college football game I have ever seen. I said the same thing after last year's BCS Championship game, and I stand by that. But that was USC vs Texas; 2 Heisman Trophy winners versus arguably the best player in the game; 2 legendary NCAA programs battling to a spectacular finish. It was what is was supposed to be - and more. But I never expected Boise State to capture my attention like they did, or for them to pull off one of the single most exciting victories in the history of bowl games. And why should I? They're from the WAC, and according to the BCS brass, no championship worthy teams come out of any conference other than the SEC, Big 10, Big 12, or Pac 10...and maybe the Big East, as long as it's not Southern Florida. So who expected Boise State to beat the powerhouse Oklahoma program: a program that has won 7 national championships and has boasted such legendary coaches as Bennie Owen, Bud Wilkinson, and the aforementioned Barry Switzer? How could Boise State, a school that wasn't granted Division I status until 1995, topple the mighty Sooners?

By having balls of steel, that's how.

Boise State jumped all over the Sooners and held a 28-10 lead midway through the 3rd quarter. Then, a big special teams play and a touchdown by the best running back in the country, Adrian Peterson, coupled with a chip-shot field goal brought the score to 28-20. With a little over 2 minutes to play Oklahoma quarterback Paul Thompson engineered a textbook scoring drive, completing every pass he threw, including a 5 yard touchdown pass to wide receiver Quentin Chaney. He topped it all off with another pass into the end zone for the game-tying 2-point conversion. After the ensuing kickoff, Boise State quarterback Jared Zabransky - who had played wonderfully up until that point - threw an out pattern to a receiver running a fly. The pass was intercepted by OU's Marcus Walker and returned 33 yards for a TD, giving Oklahoma a 7-point lead. With 1:05 remaining, Zabransky stood on the sidelines with a dejected look, and I wondered whether he was capable of bringing his team back from the brink. For how many times have we seen a young quarterback implode after making a costly mistake late in the game? I truly expected a few incompletions, a sack, and the final whistle on an Oklahoma win. But Zabransky wasn't having any of that.

He came onto the field and immediately began moving the ball. But after the drive stalled, Boise State found themselves with a 4th and 18 near mid-field. As I lay in bed, not willing to turn out the lights until the final whistle blew, I thought "one more play and I can go to sleep." Good thing Boise State didn't think that way.

During my junior year in high school, as I stood along the sidelines watching the seniors play, a similar scenario arose. Our team, facing the hated cross-town rivals, was down by 4 points with less than 2 minutes to play. The whole stadium held their breath as our quarterback found his receiver 20 yards down the field, and we all erupted in joy as he pitched the ball to our running back streaking down the sidelines. It's called a hook and ladder play, and is only used when all other options have been exhausted. The other team's defense never touched our lightning-fast RB and we won the game. As our running back coasted to the game-winning TD, I remember jumping up and down, up and down on the sidelines, bathing in the light of unmatched joy. I kept screaming "ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod" as I hugged anyone I could get my hands on. As Boise State's Jerard Rabb tore down the sidelines after receiving the sneaky pitch from his wide receiver, I found myself - lying supine in bed, trying not to wake my slumbering wife - saying the same thing: "ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod"...only this time in a whisper.

By the time I had finished explaining to my wife why she had just been woken up, Adrian Peterson had already scored on the first play of overtime: a 25-yard scamper off the left end. Then it was Boise State's turn. They moved the ball down to the 4 yard line, but after 2 incompletions and a run for no gain, the Broncos faced another 4th down. A simple run probably would have gotten them the 1st down, but the team ran a trick play, sending Zabransky out to split-end and letting wide receiver Vinny Perretta throw the game-tying TD to fellow receiver Derek Schouman. "So," I thought, "it looks like we're headed to double overtime."

To quote the venerable Lee Corso, "Not so fast my friend." Boise's head coach Chris Petersen had other plans.

As the Broncos lined up for their do-or-die 2-point conversion, I felt that familiar nervousness in my stomach that accompanies any tense situation involving a team I love. But I could care less about either of these teams, I was in it for the love of the game. And this game so enthralled me that I began to feel sick to my stomach. Then a quick snap, a fake pass to a bunched group of receivers split off to the right, and a behind-the-back hand off to running back Ian Johnson. The old Statue of Liberty play. Touchdown. Game over.

"ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod."

After apologizing profusely to my wife for waking her up again, I found myself out on the couch, still amazed by what I had just seen. Boise State, the ultimate David, had just knocked off Oklahoma, the ultimate Goliath. They did it with style; the did it with class; they did it with guts. As I pondered over the game in my head, in those few blissful moments before the Sandman arrives, I couldn't help thinking that something about that game just wasn't right. The players played beautifully, the weather had held up, even Fox's coverage was adequate. What then was bothering me? Then it hit me: Boise State had been playing the wrong team. They should have been playing Ohio State.