How do you do, Fighting Irish … We Are Marshall

I don't write about sports. And with good reason. When I say you're much better off getting your sports news from Andy, Bob and Dan, you can take that to the bank.

But after last weekend, I would be remiss this weekend if I didn't give the alma mater a little love … especially since everyone from the New York Times to the Washington Post already has. Let me explain:

I was out and about last Saturday (Boonesborough Days is not to be missed, after all) and had just returned when my brother sent a text message.

"Are you watching Marshall?"

I wasn't; I'd been out and about.

"Are they winning?" I replied.

"Yes. NBC."

By this time I had recalled that the Thundering Herd was playing Notre Dame — NOTRE DAME! — and of course it would be on network TV.

I tuned in just in time to watch Marshall win — an occurrence I had never actually witnessed during the five years I spent as a student there.

Soon sportswriters across the country opined about the underdog that had humbled the mighty Irish. Marshall's second-year coach downplayed that angle; it was no surprise to him, he said. He knew his team was that good.

But if you're not a Marshall alumnus or a sometime resident of Huntington, W.Va., you can't really appreciate the true significance of the win that had them all wagging.

Marshall and football have an incredibly complex history. The crash that killed every team member who had boarded that plane in 1970 is still regarded as the worst disaster in American sports history. And if you weren't around to hear about it then, the film version of the aftermath is still floating about.

There's a lot of "Hollywooding" in that film (the "We Are Marshall" chant, for example, wasn't a thing before the film; it is now, of course) but the basic premise is true — as far as it goes — and it finishes off as a nice, feel-good return-from-the-ashes tale.

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But that is hardly the end of the story. Even years after the crash, Marshall football was in real trouble.

The legendary Coach Jack Lengyel of "Young Herd" fame had long since departed, and The Herd now had the worst record in the NCAA. Nearly every autumn weekend the question was not whether we would lose, but by how much.

It got so bad that there was dancing in the street if we won the toss.

Many saw the program as a drain on the university, but you didn't like to say it. The crash had tremendously affected Huntington and the school; questioning football's place at Marshall was almost akin to sacrilege.

Nevertheless, buzz about scrapping the program got a little louder with each losing season. And it didn't help that the latest coach wasn't winning any popularity contests with faculty, staff, a lot of students or much of the community.

One notable exception was Ernie Salvatore, the sports editor at Huntington's newspaper, who was portrayed in the film by Mark Oliver. He maintained to the end that whatever The Herd later became was built on a foundation this coach established.

Ernie was a prince of a guy; he was invariably kind and fun to be around, and I and pretty much everybody else who knew him adored him. And he knew a whole lot more about football than I do. So I'll reserve judgement.

But then there was "the story."

Sifting through financial records, a young reporter for Marshall's student newspaper discovered that while the football program was designed to be financially self-sustaining, the state had been subsidizing it to the point that a cumulative $5 million had been spent to keep it afloat. And at a time when West Virginia had little change to spare and academic programs were facing cuts.

He brought his findings to the editor, who happened to be yours truly. And, facts being facts, we ran the story. With a chart showing in red ink how much had been spent each year for the previous 10.

Almost immediately, I was — let's say "invited" — to bring the reporter to the university president's office to — let's say "discuss" — the matter. After a long weekend of rechecking all the figures, we arrived at his office at the appointed time.

By then he had cooled down a little. But he looked me in the eye and informed me that the story was going to cause him a lot of trouble with the faculty.

I acknowledged that. But was there anything in the story that wasn't true, or that wasn't public record that anybody could find if they looked for it?

Well, no.

We parted cordially. But he was right about the fallout. The thing festered a bit. And a few years later he resigned, apparently under pressure "over questions related to financial and personnel issues in the athletic department," Ernie's paper reported. Not long after, the coach was gone, too.

Then a miracle occurred. New coaches arrived. New players were added. The Herd started winning. Chad Pennington. Randy Moss. Byron Leftwich. Graduates of a certain age began to think maybe Marshall football really was a good thing.

There were conference championships and bowl games. And last weekend, there was Top 10-ranked Notre Dame — NOTRE DAME! — being trampled by The Herd.

For those of us who remember darker days, it's a sweet victory indeed.

Tamela Baker is a Herald-Mail feature writer.

This article originally appeared on The Herald-Mail: Marshall's win over Notre Dame was a sweet reward