For the first time in a while, the UMass football team was able to smile.
AKRON, Ohio – With 90 seconds on the clock, two men stood at opposite ends of a football field with arms crossed and stoic expressions on their faces.
The one who put the ship in these waters was at the northeast corner, where he’d been for virtually the entire game, pacing, hoping, yearning for a beacon of positivity in a sea of nine losses.
The one charged with navigating those waters chomped furiously on his gum at the south end of the same sideline, hoping that at the end of those 90 seconds, the weight of the world would be lifted from his shoulders, and his place in college football infamy would be wiped away, replaced by seemingly infinite hugs and a bath in blue Gatorade.
University of Massachusetts coach Charley Molnar knew what it was like to win zero games. Fourteen seasons before, 15.2 miles from where he stood at this very moment, he’d finished an 0-11 season as offensive coordinator at Kent State.
He knew Director of Athletics John McCutcheon wouldn’t fire him, regardless of his record in this season, his first as a head coach. He had walked into a program lacking both talent and infrastructure that was barreling its way into new territory with no regard for its past or present.
Nothing could be expected, yet a single win, a simple “1” in the team’s record would mean so much to both, affirming their commitment to progress and to each other.
The two, though at opposite ends of a playing surface that can only be considered a palace by Mid-American conference standards, were together in a singular desire for the Minutemen’s narrow lead over Akron to hold up.
As the timeout came to an end, and his defense lined up for what it hoped would be its final play of the game, Molnar got into what can only be considered “standard coaching position.” Feet spread wide, Molnar had a hand on each knee, as if about pounce on an opposing player.
Defensive end Ryan Delaire ended up taking care of that.
Akron quarterback Dalton Williams took the snap, dropped back, looked up and saw nothing but white UMass jerseys. Delaire eventually hauled him to the ground, stripping the ball in the process and leaving absolutely nothing to chance.
Molnar leapt in the air, then was swallowed by a sea of players and coaches. The usually unflappable McCutcheon did a double fist pump.
The eruption extended to the coaches’ booth, where Charley Molnar III, a graduate assistant, was at a loss for words. He had grown up here. Now he and his father could add another milestone to their Northeast Ohio collection.
Two kneel-downs later it was official. Hafis Williams, who followed Molnar from Notre Dame for his final year, did the honors of giving his longtime coach a cold, blue soak.
As the final seconds ticked off, the UMass sideline was the opposite of what it had been a week earlier. In the unseasonably warm Ohio evening, exuberance reigned. Where frowns and blank stares had been present after a 63-0 loss in the cold wind of DeKalb, Ill., smiles and wide eyes pervaded this night.
Perhaps it was too much. Maybe the Minutemen should “act like they’ve been there before.” The 18 visiting teams to defeat the Zips at InfoCision Stadium since it opened couldn’t possibly have been this excited.
But it wasn’t too much. The chaotic scene Saturday evening is exactly how it was supposed to happen. A weird, sloppy game in front of a tiny crowd that to this group of kids, their leader and his boss, might as well have been the Super Bowl.
In the locker room, McCutcheon and Molnar exchanged game balls. Each will have one to keep in his respective office as a reminder of where it all began.
For now, though, it’s just nice to see them both smile.
It’s nice to see everyone smile.
UMass football is on the board.