Sideline pass: we shadow Washington State's Mike Price on game day. You can't get any closer to the field or to the head coach

Sporting News, The, Nov 11, 2002 by Matt Hayes

Mike Price is walking again, pacing back and forth and wearing a rut in the FieldTurf at Martin Stadium. The Washington State offense is dragging, the sun is setting, and it's turning bitter cold in the Palouse. And the damn back judge just missed another pass interference call.

"Hasn't made one yet," Price snaps, turning toward me. Yes, I am standing on a sideline in eastern Washington, my feet so cold I barely can feel my toes. So close to Price, Washington State's folksy and fierce head coach, I smell his cologne. So close I hear every play call--I know what is supposed to happen before it happens--and every reaction.

So close you can follow in my footsteps and find out what it's like to walk the sideline with a big-time college football coach during a big game.

It's midway through the third quarter, and the Cougars are rolling over Arizona State in a showdown of Pac-10 teams that entered the game unbeaten in the conference. The punt team runs out after a stalled drive, and special teams coach Kasey Dunn calls "Rip," Wazzu's fake punt play.

Price already is looking at plays for the next series when offensive coordinator Mike Levenseller reminds him of the fake call.

"We don't want `Rip,' do we?" Levenseller says.

"Hell, no," Price responds.

They begin to scream at punter Kyle Basler to kick, but Basler takes the snap, runs around the right side for 16 yards and a first down, and everyone looks like a genius. Four plays later, tailback Jermaine Green runs untouched from 13 yards out and increases Washington State's lead to 37-8.

"They were yelling what?" Basler asks me moments later. "I didn't hear anything"

And so it goes. The beautiful symphony that is the controlled chaos of game day--12 coaches, more than 60 players and enough adrenaline to light the tiny town of Pullman for a mouth. But the fake punt is as hit and miss as it gets. Everybody gets lucky sometime, right? The way Wazzu's game day is meticulously planned and played out, it's bound to happen.

Everyone has a job, everyone performs, and if it all works out, everyone celebrates hours later at the Sports Page bar on Main Street, where the opponent's helmet is turned backward after each victory amid a rousing cheer.

Earlier in the week, there's no guarantee. Nearly 20 players have the flu and miss practice. Then, late in the week, linebacker Ira Davis blindsides cornerback Jason David at his locker because Davis thinks David is seeing his girlfriend. Now, Davis, one of the team's best cover linebackers, is suspended indefinitely, and David, its best cover corner, is out because of a broken cheekbone.

"We'll move on," Price assures me Friday during the team's walkthrough. "And we'll be ready."

PREGAME He can't stay in his office. He has to be moving. So I am moving, too. "The worst two hours of my life," Price tells me. He pops in on assistants, picks up schedules for personnel changes and rotations, and, essentially, just stays busy because the game plan was complete hours ago. This isn't your typical coach or atmosphere. Price walks through the hallways of the football offices and doesn't know half the people wandering through them on a game day.

One holds out a football and asks for a signature. Later, another asks whether Price can look into a video camera and give 15 seconds of inspiration to a high school player who needs motivation. He has created this monster because he's so accessible and because he is as much a part of the town as the rolling wheat hills. He has been paired with Pullman since his playing days as a walk-on quarterback/ defensive back in the mid-1960s, and the smalltown atmosphere fits his glib and gregarious personality perfectly. Besides, it has to be better than stewing in his office.

It has been unseasonably cold this week, which is sort of like saying it's unseasonably cold in Alaska. And there's still a piece of gamesmanship to be executed. "I'm walking out there without a jacket," Price says, and I'm thinking, better him than me. "I don't want (Arizona State) thinking I'm cold. I'll put one on to start fire game."

He tells his players they never will have these four hours in their lives again; go make them memorable. They walk through the tunnel, and the result of days of preparation is moments away. Suddenly, a hand grabs Price. The man on the other end wishes him luck.

"My neighbor," Price says as we near the field. "Man, does he have a nice house."

FIRST QUARTER A tendency the offensive staff noticed while breaking down game tape earlier in the week dictates the tempo from the start. Arizona State blitzes early and often and usually brings its safeties on the first play of the game, leaving the middle of the field open. After ASU goes three and out at the start of the game, a short punt and a good return leave Washington State sitting at the Sun Devils' 31. Price calls the play--a play-action post pattern to wide receiver Jerome Riley--and waits for the defense to set up. ASU shows a base set, then rolls the safeties near the line of scrimmage before the snap.