It has disappeared so quickly, the time, the Saturday afternoons, wandering onto to the 100-yard pasture of Beaver Stadium, wading in the sea of atmosphere portrayed by 96,000 faithful waiting to be entertained.
Five years ago, it might have seemed like it would last forever. After tomorrow, it may never happen again.
"I don't know if I'll ever play in front of a crowd that big again," cornerback Shelly Hammonds said. "Ninety-six thousand people, every home game."
He says it with awe. The time has gone so fast.
Tick, tick, tick.
Tomorrow, the seniors will make their final curtain call, take one last bow, in a stadium where they have both worked and played for the past four years. In their blue jerseys, for the final time, they will charge down the runway for just one more encore.
"We're going to go out and try to end it well and make our last game in Beaver Stadium memorable," Hammonds said. "It's important for us to leave a good impression. You can expect a very big game for the seniors on the team."
For the seniors, the elder statesmen like Hammonds, Lou Benfatti, Tyoka Jackson, Brian O'Neal, Craig Fayak, V.J. Muscillo, Eric Ravotti, Brian Monaghan, Lee Rubin, Derick Pickett, Mike Malinoski, Derek Bochna, Tisen Thomas, Ryan Grube, Chip LaBarca and Frank Yeboah-Kodie, there will be one final swell of emotion.
Countless times, they have charged out of the tunnel, surfing a wave of exhilaration onto the field. Now, there is only one ride remaining.
"It's probably going to be a little emotional for me going out onto the field for the last time," Monaghan said. "It came up quick."
Tick, tick, tick.
From green freshmen to swaggering seniors, tendencies and traditions have unfolded. During their stay at home, in Beaver Stadium, things have become second nature.
Tyoka Jackson, leading the brigade from the tunnel, snapping at the heels of the cheerleaders on his dash over to the handicapped section of the stands.
A crescendoing "Louuuuuuu," rattling the airwaves after Benfatti, in his soiled uniform, stuffs another run.
O'Neal, taking his traditional pregame walk, endzone to endzone, visualizing the events he hopes will unfold during the afternoon.
Hammonds and Rubin, flapping their arms wildly as if trying to fly, igniting an already booming, home-field crowd.
They have become, gradually, progressively, a part of the Beaver Stadium furniture. They are mainstays in the memory, and after tomorrow, in Beaver Stadium they will be just that. Memories.
Tick, tick, tick.
In four years, the team has climbed near the zenith of college football and sunk to the murky nadirs. There was the upset of a No. 1 Notre Dame team in 1990 and the No. 3 ranking in 1991 after a Fiesta Bowl victory over Tennessee. There was the loss to Miami in 1992, which triggered an internal collapse, and the losses to Michigan and Ohio State this year, which officially extinguished their hopes for a national title.
"The biggest thing I've learned is to persevere," Hammonds said.
Although he admits the locker room will be flowing with emotions and memories before and after the final appearance in Beaver Stadium, Hammonds is accepting the climax of his career philosophically.
"Eventually everything comes to an end," he said. "Eventually this was going to happen. Life is one cycle -- you start at the lower level and move up to bigger and better things. You can't live in the past, you live for tomorrow."
But tomorrow has come so quickly.
Tick, tick, tick.
"Anytime your career starts winding down, you just never think it's going to come this quick," Hammonds said. "I was like, 'What? This can't be my last home game already.' It goes by so fast."
Sometimes, too fast.
