The true meaning of passed out
ALOHA Stadium under siege, Day four:
We're here. We're still here. It won't stop. It just won't stop.
It was sometime late Saturday night, if I can remember that far back, that this ceased being a football game and became an agonizing epic test of endurance, a reality TV show come to real life. Something out of "Survivor."
It had gone from spectator sporting event to "immunity challenge."
Oh, the humanity.
And Hawaii-New Mexico State rolls on.
It was just after midnight, early Sunday morning, when the first person snapped in the press box. The guy leapt over three people, scratching at the game-clock switch, screaming, "Let 'um run! Let 'um run!"
They subdued him during a TV timeout.
The people in the stands, the ones still here, are dazed. Glazed. A few of them are one more wide-receiver screen from checking out for good.
The passes. Oh, the passes.
Oh, the humanity.
We knew this was coming. We were warned. Two pass-happy offenses. Two mad-scientist coaches out to shake up the establishment.
In the second quarter New Mexico State ran a trap. The guy tripped. That was it. The run was out.
There was an announcement over the PA: Beer sales would end at the beginning of the fourth quarter. Or Tuesday, whichever came first.
Luckily, I've prepared for this. I was ready. I saw this coming. I have everything.
Spam. Bottled water. Flashlight. Matches. Wet wipes. Deck of cards. Rope. First-aid kit. Clean bebedees.
"War and Peace."
(For when it's going to be a while.)
New Mexico State coach Hal Mumme had talked about the possibility, with two passing teams, of the game stretching late into the night.
"Well, if there are complete passes," he said, "then it won't take so long."
Complete passes, you say.
They should have moved up the kickoff for this game. They should have started early. Like Thursday.
We're starting to drool for sprint draws the way people see oases in the desert.
The officials, giddy with fatigue, have made some pretty interesting signals (I think the last one was, "So -- you know drunken monkey style, eh?") but at least they seem to have relaxed their policy on clock stoppage. The cheerleaders issue stern warnings to anyone who dares run out of bounds.
We've reached acceptance now. We've been through denial, fear, bargaining, anger. We're just going to ride it out.
The first sunrise was the hardest.