Dear West Virginia Football,
We need to talk. No one likes to hear those words but you and I, we have a problem. You see, I’ve been a fan for almost all my life now and you are making me check out all of the other programs that are wearing fancy clothes and new shoes with new haircuts. It has been a rough four years. You used to be fun. We used to stay up late, get real excited and generally had lots of fun. We haven’t had fun for a while now. I don’t want to lose you but I don’t want to go on like this.
You played a game last week and I found myself staring blankly at the screen in front of me, not cheering, not hollering, not affected by the outcome of the game. For three quarters, you fought hard and you looked like you just might have some excitement, but then, as you have done for the past four years, you made a mistake and the other team capitalized and you found yourself down and out. Everyone likes to root for the longshot, but they aren’t called longshots because they should win.
I don’t like feeling this way West Virginia. I still love you but I don’t really like you right now. I won’t lie and say its not you, its me, because it is definitely you. You are the problem. I’m trying here but I can’t keep getting hurt when you won’t even make an effort to get better.
This Saturday, you are supposed to take on the Oklahoma Sooners. They aren’t the big, bad Oklahoma Sooners that they were years ago. They aren’t scoring 60 points a game and they were even shutout against their rivals, the Texas Longhorns. I should feel like this is a game we could have a chance in, but I don’t. I don’t even think you will make it a game. Look how much you’ve hurt me, I don’t think you can win and I’m not even mad. I’m not even sad. I don’t even have the hope to fall for “a puncher’s chance”. I’m resigned to the fact that at some point, you’re going to make a mistake and it’s going to make a relatively close game become a not close game and that will be the end. I’ll turn off my TV or leave my seat at the game and just...feel nothing. No heartbreak, no misery, no anguish. Just emptiness.
You can win me back West Virginia. I’m begging you to win me back. You don’t have to go back to being the old you, but it would be nice if you could be somewhat like the old you. You haven’t forgotten how to go fast and have fun, have you? You haven’t forgotten how to get pressure and sacks and turnovers and interceptions, have you?
Win me back, West Virginia. Let’s have fun again and let’s be the people and the team we used to be. Don’t throw all of this away because you refuse to change. You tried to correct for some mistakes you made in the past but you went too far. I’m not asking for you to be the old you, I don’t want the old you, but I don’t like this new you. This new you isn’t for me. This new you isn’t bringing me the same joy, the same energy or excitement that you used to bring me and I miss it. I even miss the pain, because at least I cared. At least I thought you had a chance and I knew, if you could just avoid that one fatal mistake, you might make me love you that much more. I hope you are still in there West Virginia, because I want to be here for you, but you have to make the first step. You have to show me the change. Show me the change West Virginia.