Pitt-WVU Backyard Brawl, a great game ― and ugly, vulgar spectacle

Years ago at a motorcycle rally in Morgantown, West Virginia, my (costly, only) leather jacket fell off the back of our bike during a parade. A man in the crowd darted into the street and took off with it. Jerry and I reported it to a police officer on the corner, never expecting to see the coat again.

But the next morning at the hotel, our phone rang. It was the officer. He got a description of the guy, had a hunch and tracked down both the thief and the jacket. It was at the station if we could swing by.

I am still grateful for that service to hapless out-of-towners. For us, those connections made with strangers in far-from-home places give travel in this country its joy and meaning. In talking with the officer, we learned that he had visited Benezette and other Pennsylvania places we knew.

With that West Virginia memory and other positive interactions we have had with visiting fans at University of Pittsburgh football games in mind, I looked forward to the Sept. 1 Pitt home season opener, the long-awaited return of the Backyard Brawl with the West Virginia University Mountaineers.

More: Late pick-six lifts No. 16 Pitt over West Virginia in Backyard Brawl

We had attended the two most recent Pitt-Penn State matchups at then-Heinz Field. That primal rivalry charged the air, with competing chants erupting outside the stadium hours before kickoff. And in the close quarters of the stands, there was requisite trash talking, but underlying it, a basic understanding of our shared humanity. Through conversations, we learned that most of us had tight family connections to both Pennsylvania schools.

Given the geographic proximity, I expected the same at the Pitt and WVU game at newly dubbed Acrisure Stadium.

Silly me.

I am not sure what Pitt, the city or its fans, ever did to this WVU fan base, but clearly something (the 0-9 national title deficit?) stoked fury.

The rounds of “eat (excrement) Pitt” started long hours before the game among the legions of North Shore tailgaters. Ha ha. Fair enough. But the chant continued the entire game with a grim single-mindedness until the voices around us grew hoarse. There were kids (I mean 12, 13 years old) in our section hurling the crudest insults involving not just excrement, but also anatomy, at the refs, the Pitt players and their own team.

Completely surrounded, the best retort we mustered was muttering “nice vocabulary.” Lame, I know. (But consider how low you might scrape if you start trolling West Virginia. One branch of my family comes from Pennsylvania mountains not far from Morgantown. I detest jokes targeting rural people.)

Plus, I did not want to risk assault.

A man in a near front-row seat grabbed a young Pitt fan who had leapt to his feet during a particularly exciting play and tried to force him back in his seat and then, for what reason I don't know, cocked his fist as if readying to deliver a punch. He tried it again late in the game, even as people next to him tried to restrain him. This, while a line of WVU fans behind this angry, handsy Mountaineer stood in front of us for long segments of the game offering a view of their hams, not the field. Annoying, sure, given what Jerry paid for season tickets. Would I ever lay a hand on them? Of course not.

At one point a commotion broke out behind us, apparently involving one of the potty-mouthed kids. When we turned around, silently, to see what was going on, the man directly behind us said he did not want to hear our "BS" and ordered us to turn around, complete with finger wagging in face. Not a police officer, just a guy apparently self-vested with the authority to control in which direction one's head spun in a menacing space that felt on the verge of violence for much of the day.

I'd say it was our bad luck, but when we went out for a break, three young men in Pitt attire struck up a conversation and began relating horrors from their section. "It is worse than any Steelers game," one said.

Later, friends of ours reported items rained down from fans above when the Mountaineers lost in the thrilling final moments. The belligerence drove another couple we know from their seats before that win was clinched.

I am certain there were places in the vast stadium where the bad behavior went both ways. And to be clear, there were also many peaceable Mountaineer fans in our section.

The young couple next to me drained at least six mini-bottles of vodka into a soda cup to warm their spirits — I know because that's the number of empty bottles they left scattered on the floor. He was flushed, frequently unhinged, and relied heavily on a particularly foul curse word to express the apparently excruciating emotions stirred by a ball of leather getting carted up and down a patch of grass. But she was fine. I asked if it was just Pitt that worked folks up.

She said no, it was like this every game.

What fun that must be.

The ugliness and hostility was so unrelenting and utterly lacking in humor or imagination, it spoiled the game and cast a pall over the holiday weekend days remaining. We repeatedly returned to a question ― “Who does that?”

They even drowned out "Sweet Caroline" with their roaring scatology and were beaming proud of it. Neil Diamond deserves better. College football — talented athletes trying to make their way in the world — deserves better.

The WVU team played hard and I would not have begrudged them the win. That did not stop their fans around us from heaping foul abuse on the players, who were close enough to hear it. Go team.

I don't imagine the university or the city of Morgantown endorses such behavior. And who knows how many of those bad actors around us actually went to the school.

Where was the obligatory stadium announcement asking people to be courteous because it was, after all, a family event? Where was the seat sticker instructing people how to text security discreetly?

I am sure there are those who will tell me this is why they call it a "brawl" and that histrionic vitriol and unseemly overcompensation are part of all sporting events these days.

The thing is, we have attended dozens of Pitt games over the years and never experienced anything like it. Indeed, on Sept. 10, University of Tennessee fans, rowdy, exuberant, and as cheerful as their tangerine team colors, mixed in our section belting out rounds of "Rocky Top." The guy behind us did not spew profanity or bully. He tapped my shoulder to tell me what a great a city Pittsburgh is and how welcome they felt in their days visiting it. When Pitt lost, he shook Jerry's hand.

The WVU experience, in stark contrast, felt less like obligatory heckling and more perverse and transgressive, fueled by this garbage moment in history where too many Americans feel so supremely licensed to exorcise their very worst impulses toward complete strangers and perceived "enemies." And with that it reminded me of a more recent visit to West Virginia where a man drove past shopping tourists while shouting curses out his car window because he apparently believed they were of the opposing political party and thus damned by God.

Who does that?

The proximity, tradition and cash tipped into the coffers by this record turnout game likely means this classless lot will be hosted again.

But after what we witnessed? In this particular backyard, the old adage about good fences and good neighbors should apply.

Opinion and Engagement Editor Lisa Thompson Sayers can be reached at lthompson@timesnews.com or 814-870-1802. Follow her on Twitter @ETNThompson.

This article originally appeared on Erie Times-News: Pitt, WVU Backyard Brawl at Acrisure a foul spectacle, call it off