Slept On It: Pittsburgh

After last week's loss to East Carolina, I was absolutely livid. Angry with the defenses' ongoing struggle to defend designed quarterback runs; frustrated by the lack of progress on the field despite improved recruiting and evenly distributed talent.

After the Hokies' 17-13 loss to Pitt on Saturday, the only emotion I felt was sadness and I know I'm not alone.

Two weeks removed from an overwhelming feeling of hope, I woke up Sunday morning and realized that the speed with which Hokie Nation is moving through the five stages of grief is rapidly increasing.

Following the Sugar Bowl loss to Michigan, we spent three seasons in denial. It started with Danny Coale's touchdown reception that wasn't and morphed into a solemn wave goodbye to ten-win seasons. An increased investment in the program, coaching changes and a renewed focus on bringing top-level, college-ready talent to Blacksburg buoyed our hopes. In hindsight, maybe it was just Frank Beamer pulling the wool over our eyes.

We flirted with full-on anger last season, especially after the Wake Forest debacle. But constant reminders of the widespread youth and a strong showing in the Military Bowl against Cincinnati gently pulled us back from the ledge.

We spent an off-season convincing ourselves that this was the year we would return to our perch atop the ACC. We basked in the promise showed by Brenden Motley and the offense despite the absence of starter Michael Brewer. Then ECU happened.

Missed tackle after missed tackle on Pirates quarterback James Summers drew the ire of Hokies everywhere. A second straight loss to the Pirates and tone deaf post-game comments by Beamer brought the fanbase to a boiling point.

The fact that perennial thorn-in-our-side Pittsburgh loomed only exacerbated the panic.

Heading into the game, it seemed like fait accompli recently-demoted quarterback Chad Voytik — who decimated the Hokies a year ago with 118 yards rushing — would be sporadically dispatched to try and defeat the Hokies with his legs. On only the Panthers' second play from scrimmage, Voytik entered the game and ripped off a 26-yard run. I became incensed.

A week removed from an embarrassing performance against a mobile quarterback, Bud Foster's defense failed to execute once again. Everyone watching knew Voytik had entered to make plays with his feet. It was as though the defense had learned nothing between games.

To their credit, the defense played a pretty solid game on Saturday, and held the Panthers to only 276 yards of total offense and star wideout Tyler Boyd to 48 yards on 5 catches. What damned them was the occasional lapses in focus that have plagued them in the past, none worse than Qadree Ollison's 38-second one-man show to open the second half.

34 minutes of solid defense undone by a few brain farts and stupid penalties. Go Tech Go.

As the defense began to tighten things up, the offense failed to reciprocate. As Scot Loeffler's unit repeatedly sputtered, I found myself reflecting on how we got here. Where did it all go wrong? What could the program have been done differently?

I suddenly missed those routine ten-win seasons; the annual trips to the ACC Championship Game; getting frustrated over rankings and national respect. Did I appreciate the good years enough?

A series of, "What If's" flooded my mind, ranging from, "What if Michael Brewer hadn't broken his collarbone" to, "What if Shane Beamer understood how to use his running backs?"

My personal journey through the bargaining phase was short lived. After Motley threw his third and game-ending interception to Pitt's Mike Caprara, I felt profoundly sad.

Watching the Hokies play football is one of my favorite things on Earth. The anticipation of a new football season gets me through the endless winter snowstorms, the rainy spring months and the scorching heat of the summer. For four months out of the year, Virginia Tech football makes the work week fly by, it dominates my social calendar, and it brings back great memories of my time in Blacksburg.

In hindsight, the last few seasons have been like watching a loved one fall ill. It has been a slow, painful process watching Tech struggle with the physical and emotional up's and down's. One day they look like their old self, leading you to wonder whether they are turning the proverbial corner. A short time later, they can't even get out of bed and you're left worrying that the end is near.

I hoped I would never get here. Being sad about this program makes me even sadder. I don't want to blow everything up and start anew. I don't want to see Frank unceremoniously kicked to the curb. I want to see him leave on his own terms, carried off Worsham Field on his players' shoulders like he deserves. It's not supposed to end like this.

In any sport, it's easy to blame the coaches when things go wrong. Everything begins and ends with them. In collegiate athletics, coaches recruit the players, serve as de facto parents and promise to mold them into great women and men.

In the end, everyone's fate is decided by the performance on the field. Coaches do their best to prepare their players and put them in a position to succeed, but the players are ultimately responsible for seeing things through to fruition.

It leads to circuitous conversations over whose role is more important, and who ultimately deserves both credit and blame.

Football, arguably more than any other sport, relies on its precision. Coaches cleverly orchestrate where their players should be at a given time, stringing these movements together to form strategies aimed at defeating the opposition.

Yet despite its structure, the beauty of football lies in the organic nature of each play. One play could be won through clean and disciplined execution, another lost because of someone's ability to adapt on the fly.

It's a never ending dance between teams; poetry in motion.

Legendary choreographer Paul Taylor recently said, "Poetry doesn't always spell everything out. They leave room between the lines."

Coaches can only be expected to do so much. While they create something that is beautiful in theory, it is ultimately up to the players to bring it to life.

That symbiotic relationship between coaches and players is what builds successful teams. Right now, everyone within the Virginia Tech football program is failing to bring it all together.

I haven't yet moved on to acceptance. I'm still sad. Maybe you are too.

What scares me is the fear of the unknown. Where do we go from here? Will this recent spell of poor play come to characterize this team, pushing the program closer to college football purgatory? Will the fan base become mired in this depressive state, or can the Hokies make the necessary adjustments to reverse the trend?

I wish I knew the answer. All I can do is hope that someone in the Merryman Center figures out what to do. Otherwise, we'll all be coming to terms with change sooner than we expected.