MORGANTOWN — As his final home game as a West Virginia football player bears down upon him, the reality of it all hits home for Jack Crow.
Time is no longer on his side, just as reality never was.
He came to his state university out of Weirton to prove something to himself, to fight the odds, to show that a 5-9, 150-pound freshman could play with the big boys.
And, deep down, he believes he has accomplished that.
“Just because you don’t play doesn’t mean you can’t play,” he says, almost defiantly.
The truth is that Jack Crow can run as fast as most of the receivers, has better hands than many.
He has played well in practice for four years. He’s shown ability in spring games. And twice — only twice — he got to play in regular season games.
There are those who find that to be an accomplishment, that this walk-on from a small West Virginia school got to trot out on to Mountaineer Field at Milan Puskar Stadium and play as a Mountaineer.
These are the same people who cry when they see the movie “Rudy.”
“I hate that movie,” Jack Crow said.
He doesn’t now, never did, see himself as a walk-on whose only goal was to get onto the field for one play, as Notre Dame’s Rudy did in real life and the hit movie.
“That is the exact opposite of my thought process,” he said. “The last thing I would want is some kind of charity appearance. That would be embarrassing.”
No, Jack Crow wanted to earn his time on the field. He wasn’t here to be some kind of token.
He came to West Virginia not necessarily expecting to play, but expecting to get the chance to play.
He understood this wasn’t high school football anymore, that they would bring in players from around the country, bigger, stronger players who ran as fast or faster.
He doesn’t say he should have played ahead of Darius Reynaud or Jock Sanders in the slot, but there has been real disappointment that more didn’t come of his career.
Even though he wasn’t part of the playing rotation, he saw himself as a football player.
That is why there were those dreams.
Oh, Jack Crow didn’t dream often, he said.
But there were nights.
“I can’t tell you home many times I’d wake up in cold sweat,” he said, “sure I’d slept through practice.”
He’d look at his alarm clock. It would say the clock was set for 5:30 a.m. It was only 4.
“I’d have trouble going back to sleep,” he said.
Football meant enough to him that it would invade his subconscious, interrupt his sleep.
It has to be hard, really, to do what Jack Crow did, for football practice is not a pleasant experience and players go through it mostly for the rewards that come on game day.
But the band would get more time on the field than would Jack Crow and that ate at him.
See, he never really ever felt out of place at practice, never saw players do things he couldn’t do.
“I need to know that I could hang with these guys,” he said, “to know I could hold on with this caliber of player.”
And that he did, all the while working his way through business school, closing in on that degree that will come in May.
“It’s gone fast and slow,” Crow said of the passing years. “It seems like only yesterday me and Pops were talking.”
His mother had sent him off to college with only one real directive when it came to football.
“Run like hell,” she had said and he had. He played hard for Rich Rodriguez, hard for Bill Stewart.
Was it worth it?
“I’m glad I came here,” he said. “I had to find out where I stood with the best guys.”
And, when it’s over, will he miss it?
“I’ll miss the relationships with the guys. You can’t replace that,” he said.
And, in truth, a coach can’t replace having a Jack Crow on his team. See, if they measured heart instead of height, Jack Crow would have been an All-American.
E-mail Bob Hertzel at bhertzel@hotmail.com.
Bob Herzel
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