Deacon, um, Abcess

Watching the NCAA East Regionals on CBS last Thursday, when they showed an overhead blimp-cam shot of Lawrence Joel, I had a moment of disorientation when the camera showed a glimpse of barren red dirt off to one side of the coliseum.

Then I remembered Deacon Tower.

The entire Deacon Boulevard side of Groves Stadium is one big construction site, and the old press box, along with the top third or so of sections 3 through about 8, are just gone.

Ever seen someone get a mole (the red-mark-on-skin kind, not the digging-up-your-yard kind) removed, before they get stitched back up? That's sort of how Groves Stadium looks right now.

I drove by this morning, while taking my daughter to "Hoops Alley"* at the coliseum complex. Seeing the huge abcess in the side of Groves wasn't nearly as disconcerting as I thought it'd be.

Still, I have some fond memories of what's gone. I've watched football from every vantage point Groves Stadium offers, except the visitors' sideline. I've watched from both the east and west stands, I've watched from Deacon Hill, I've watched from Bridger Field House (versions 1 and 2), I've watched from the home sidelines (okay, it was a Pop Warner game - but it was the Pop Warner national championship game, when my dad helped coach the Tiny Falcons, starring future Wake wide receiver and Atlanta Braves outfielder Tommy Gregg), and I've watched from the old press box.

When I wrote for the Old Gold & Black ("Covers the campus like the magnolias"), our sports editor invited me to use our extra press pass a couple of times - ostensibly to help take notes, mostly just to hang out and enjoy what is undoubtedly the best view of a football game I've ever seen. The old press box was close enough to the field for us to see the players clearly, but high enough to be able to take in all the action. It's what TV coverage ought to look like. You could keep your eye on the quarterback as he dropped back, but you could also watch the battles on the line. The food was close enough that you could fill (or re-fill) your plate or your drink between plays. And the food was free.

The only drawback was the unwritten law of the press box: no cheering. None. Not a bit. Not a clap. Not even when Wake came from two touchdowns down to overtake Appalachian State in the home opener. Not even when John Henry Mills made the greatest almost-catch I've ever seen: just a step ahead of the cornerback, with the safety coming over to help, Mills laid out for the ball at about the 5-yard-line, rolling over in the air so that he was flying with his face to the sky, and the ball slipped through his hands and bounced off his chest. I just had to sit there grinding my teeth, clenching my fists, and quivering like Beeker.

Good times, good times.

Anyway, if you want to check on the progress of Deacon Tower, Wake has a site set up at http://wakeforestfacilities.com/about_overview.htm. Doesn't really tell you much we didn't already know. I'll see if I can get a picture of the abcess posted on here before too long.