Sidelines
[ UH WARRIOR FOOTBALL ]
There weren't any miracles left. It ended the way you knew it would, the way perhaps Hawaii's fans and coaches had secretly feared. Rice running. Clock running. Inch by torturous inch. UH couldn't stop it. Not in the end. The kid finally made a kick. And then it was over. The story all there, told on their faces as they sat stunned in the locker room. Warriors ran out of miracles
"These kids," defensive coordinator Kevin Lempa said last night, "are very proud kids."
The game had started with so much promise, defensively. A new lineup, a new look. A new feel to it all.
But for once, as the game wore on, it was the defense that couldn't overcome the miscues from the offense. Interceptions, four of them. Those dreaded double thumps that make your heart go cold as a kick comes back at you. And then when hot and then not so hot Timmy Chang could go no more, Jared Flint gamely tap dancing in the pocket, unable to pull the trigger to a gun he just doesn't have.
It started so well for the defense. They made a statement early. The kick was no good, and then the stadium filled with the roar of rain on an iron roof -- big rain, hard rain, relentless loud pounding rain. You know the sound, the sound you hear when you're safe and warm while outside a storm is slamming into your house. It can be rare, and quick, and beautiful, and you soak in it without getting wet. It is a sound, a feeling, that is comforting and thrilling all at once.
But it didn't come from real water. Not this time. By now, midway through the first quarter, the seats at Aloha Stadium were drying and the umbrellas were already neatly folded away.
This came from a flash flood of emotion, of approval, of passion. This was a stand, and the crowd responded. A defensive stand, a real, exciting, oh-my-goodness, slam the door, rock the house, wake the kids, lock up your daughters defensive series. And the guys in green were the ones doing it. It deserved some human raindrops. It deserved to hear that sound.
This game would be different. The actions on the field said it. The fan sentiment echoed it.
Who are these guys?
Not the same defense that played last week. Not the same Chris Brown, you could see the difference. Not the same interior line. This Iosua guy -- when he finally gets on the field -- makes things happen. Lance Samuseva was eating up space and occupying blockers. "Coach Jones and the defensive coaches told us: 'Go out and play with confidence,'" Samuseva said. "That's what we had out there."
Two quarterbacks were forced from the field. The ball was on the ground. They forced fumbles. They strang out runs. They made plays.
"We got together as a defense," Lempa said, and decided to become one.
No, Nate Jackson was not the key, not after being banged up early, but Sean Butts did his best Nate impersonation, even coming up with a crucial fourth-quarter fumble. And Travis Laboy continues to emerge. I never expected much from him -- the guy looks like an underwear model. But when he slams an offensive lineman, then slams the quarterback, he looks like a star. And Hyrum Peters, tough Hyrum Peters, just kept running into people.
But the offense, after some early fireworks from Ashley Lelie, some red-zone punch that June Jones had told us about last week, just didn't have it.
Timmy Chang continues to tantalize us. He continues to tease. How can he have one of the best games of his life -- and one of the worst -- all on the same night?
He's good, so good. He has a feel for the game. But then here come those sophomore moments. Throwing off his back foot. Trying to squeeze one in on the run. A bad effort in trying to tackle on an interception that might have been the difference in the game. And then forced to watch at the end, forever suffering with an incomplete. What now? If Chang is injured what of the rest of the season? A defense that might have emerged last night will have to get bigger still.
So many questions tonight, so many stories from a game that had everything. A defense that was just short and an offense that started hot and then faded away and special teams that were alternately demonic and disastrous. But there were moments, so many moments that showed what could be.
The Warriors were home last night, and they heard the rain on the roof. It was comforting and exciting, all at once. It just ended sooner then they'd hoped.
UH Athletics
Ka Leo O Hawaii
Kalani Simpson's column runs Sundays, Tuesdays and Fridays.
He can be reached at ksimpson@starbulletin.com
