I’ve never seen 114,419 people in one place, let alone wearing one color. That was the scene in Happy Valley during the White Out as USC beat Penn State last night.
I was there with the NBC crew and, pre-game, was right in the thick of the student section. The only word I can use to attempt to share what it was like is that the White Out is a spectacle.
The choreography, the passion, the excitement, the sheer volume of noise, let alone people…folks, it is 1 of 1. And I am so grateful to have been there.
Watching the game play out from the sideline, and having watched every snap of USC football since 2005, I left Beaver Stadium thinking this was the most well-coached game of Lincoln Riley’s USC tenure.
From clutch audibles, clock management, variance in his playcalling, the discipline of his team…it all stood out. Earlier in the week I asked Lincoln Riley what his team needed to do to win in this environment. Without flinching he said, “Poise.”
They had that, and heading into their bye week, the Trojans have a chance to take the next step.
Speaking of steps, how about UCLA football? They seem to be skipping them. A year ago they fired their head coach, OC and DC before October, and now they’re being talked about as a CFP team…I’m not sure they will be that in Bob Chesney’s first year, but he has the Bruins playing like the Trojans used to under Pete Carroll. Run game, physical defense and winning in the margins. The Crosstown Rivalry has a chance to be the most meaningful one in nearly 20 years.
As I fly back to the West Coast, I find myself reflecting on how fast the season has gone by, and how seasons start to blend into one another.
It’s like Ferris Bueller said, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”
This past weekend my Dad was able to join me in Happy Valley. His first White Out as well. Post-game we visited a tailgate, saw some dear friends and drove home to Dalton, PA. We arrived back in the town I grew up in around 3am, exhausted and elated. Spent and completely full.
I felt like I needed time with him, and as a father, I’m sure he felt similar.
At 18 years old I left this town, began a life and have rarely returned home. In fact, this weekend’s walk around the town of 1,415 people was the first time I’d been there since 2020.
That was when my Mom died.