The Vandals need us. They’ve never needed us more.
We’re beyond the point of being able to call any loss “crushing,” simply because there have been so many losses in the last fifteen years. But after today’s one-sided defeat against Nevada, I can feel the passion draining from Vandal fan’s souls, and I think we might be at a crossroads. Now, far be it from me to suggest that I have any pull in the Vandal universe, so forgive me if I overstep my authority. I am but a lowly alumnus with an opinion: Idaho is a hair away from returning to the dark ages of Vandal football, and if that happens it will be partly our fault - and mine - as fans.
When I say the dark ages, I am referring to my own experience, the dismal years following 1998 when the Vandal football team posted a record of 30-86 (1999-2008). 1999 was a better year than most people may realize, especially when you consider that an 8-5 record is merely above average, and a bowl win is cool, but not earth shaking. Imagine the best meal you’ve ever eaten at Applebee’s, followed by a cone at Baskin Robbins. (You’re not gonna write a column about it, is my point.) But 1999 delivered something that I actually cherish more than wins: a head coach that I’m proud of.
I missed the salad days of Idaho coaches. John L. Smith, Dennis Erickson (the first time), and Keith Gilbertson helmed Vandal teams of note, but what I got was Chris Tormey (interviewed him once: kinda of a jerk), Tom Cable (terrible coach, keeps getting better jobs somehow), Nick Holt (leaves for a better gig every two years), and Dennis Erickson (the liar). Then comes along Robb Akey. I was skeptical to the max, as the kids say. After all, the man was a coach on one of the worst PacTen teams in history. But Senor Akey is infectious. He’s gotten under my skin with his passion and his perfect soundbites. He makes me want to believe in Vandal football, that there are better days ahead, that mediocrity isn’t everything. And now that I have that feeling I’m scared of losing him (insert weird comment here.)
But the awful truth is this: I wouldn’t stay if I was him either. Not with the support that we give him. I know Moscow’s a small town, but the Kibbie Dome is a small building, and filling it can be done. (In related news, I’ve heard an inordinate amount of complaints about the way ticketing was handled for next week’s “game” against Boise State, but I don’t think anybody gets to complain if we don’t sell out every game against top 25 teams.) Why would Coach Akey stay if we don’t show him that he’s wanted? Yes, that probably includes a significant pay raise, but money is less of a concern than showing up. Playing for a half-full dome can’t be uplifting.
On the flip side, how incredible would it be if in 25 years, we were Penn State. I know that Joe Paterno’s teams have not been dominant recently, but the man has won 400 football games, 24 bowl games, and two national championships. He has been the head coach at Pennsylvania State University for sixty one years. He is 84 years old, and still stalks the sidelines of Happy Valley as often as his legs will allow him. This is loyalty at its finest. Over the last year I have realized that loyalty (aka, commitment) may be the most important human quality that we possess. Or not possess, sadly. And that’s why, speaking only for myself, Joe Paterno is a hero. He’s a man with a passion for his work, for his employers, for his students and for his supporters, and doesn’t exhibit an ounce of selfishness. I sense the same aura from Robb Akey, and I want (perhaps naively) to see it even more in a quarter century. That kind of loyalty from him, and from us as fans and alumni, is what turns a mediocre program into a juggernaut. It can be done, but it isn’t easy and it doesn’t come cheap, and it won’t happen overnight. It will happen when we decide that being there for the team is important, every week, for every snap, for every rendition of Go Vandals. When we tell them they’re important by staying for the last whistle, even though it means getting stuck in traffic leaving the parking lot. When we do that, Coach will have good reason to think twice when the University of Whatnot comes calling with a bigger program and bigger wallet and a bigger...well, you know. When, not if, that happens we’ve got to make a stand for our coach, and be able to tell him, without a hint of inconsistency, that we are behind him to the end.
These principles apply to so many more parts of life, but that’s material for a different rant. The nuts of this column are a call to arms for all Vandal fans, alums, or Moscow indifferants. Let’s stop acting like football is just a game (even though it is), and treat our Vandals as a student that we’re trying to raise to be the President of the United States. It takes all of us to make that happen, by showing up, always, even if the game doesn’t matter. It takes all of us telling Coach Akey that we believe in his talent as a coach, and that we want him here. It takes all of us yelling ourselves hoarse, even if we’re down by double digits, to tell the players that we believe in their talent and drive, and that win or lose we will be with them next week, and next season, and the season after that. If we do that, they’ll talk about Idaho football on SportsCenter with the reverence they used to reserve for Notre Dame.
And in ten years (or so), Idaho will beat Boise State again. And this is my prayer, that we’ll prove them wrong. BSU will want to play in the Dome, because they have a worthy opponent there, or they will fear the Dome, because they have a butt-whooping waiting for them inside. I want to be part of that.
Until next time then. rossnation... out.
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