Every year at this time I run into the same dilemma: All year long I think of hundreds of things I want for Christmas. Then, right around Thanksgiving time, my mind goes completely blank. Mom tells me I need to figure out what I want to ask for from Santa (yes, I still write to Santa) and I can't think of a single thing. Of course, around New Year's I look at my supply of new socks, Christmas underwear and gift certificates and remember exactly what it was that I so desperately longed for before my turkey-induced amnesia left me with a very unspecific letter to sent North.
This year, however, is different.
This year I know exactly what I want for Christmas. Sure, my mom laughed at my list when I gave her my letter to mail to Santa, and I realize that none of the things I'm hoping to get this winter can be wrapped in a neat little box, but my wishes stand. All I want for Christmas this year is another Continental Tire Bowl win.
Last year, there was no better feeling than watching West Virginia get trampled 48-22, in front of an unbelievable crowd in the Panthers' stadium. The mood was electric, especially for such an early kickoff, and it had nothing to do with the West Virginia fans' enjoyment of the novel stadium amenities: Indoor plumbing, for example. The entertainment was of a high caliber as anyone who witnessed it must admit that the Virginia pep band's skit was hilarious, no matter what the censors may have said. And last but not least, watching Al Groh try his hardest not to look smug during the press conference was the best post-Christmas gift I could have asked for.
I know why Al looked smug: He and his young tailback Wali Lundy had taken the Continental Tire Bowl game ball and rammed it right down the Mountaineers' throats, silencing critics of Groh's less-than-dreamy season along with the whole West Virginia contingency. Virginia came into the game with a chip on its shoulder and something to prove, and the Cavaliers rose to the occasion.
Here's my concern: (Santa, if you're reading, this is where you need to pay attention) This year, things are different.
This year, there's no Billy McMullen. This year, there's no Bill Musgrave calling the offensive plays. There's no big chip on the team's shoulder: We're just happy not to be playing in Boise. And of course, there's no pep band.
Can Virginia do it again? Will Wali Lundy's legs be up to staging a repeat of last year's MVP performance? Will Heath Miller keep making the plays that make the guys in the student section yell "It's MILLER TIME?" Will Schaub manage to catch every snap? And who's going to do the mocking at halftime?
I suppose I should be happy. This was no dream season -- the Maryland and N.C. State losses almost broke my fourth-year heart -- but Virginia is now riding the crest of a winning wave. It was sweet, sweet vindication to watch the Yellow Jackets get swatted and the Hokies cooked.
I have to admit that it's greedy of me to ask for one more great Virginia football moment after I got to rush the field and mock the whole south side of Virginia at my last home game. But I can't help it. I finally know what I want for Christmas, and I'm going to wish as hard as I can:
Santa baby, please help the Cavaliers do it again.
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