You go, Hokies, and Tar Heels, too.

Well, shut my mouth.

Still, no O line and, until the end, Tech’s offense overall didn’t do much. And the defense wore down, as predicted here, because they  spent so much time on the field.

That said, here’s today’s relevant paragraph: OK, I’m Frank Beamer. I have this solid-gold young quarterback who can pass, run and toadly confuse opponents’ defenses.

This guy could be lights-out (who doesn’t love a good sports cliche?) for the next four seasons.

Why, oh, why, would you risk his health by giving him DESIGNED running plays?

I’m not talking about the rare option or the timely QB draw. I’m talking about, you know, a half-dozen opportunities for him to gain four yards and for the opponents to line up and try to knock him into the stadium concourse.

This is the kind of kid you keep in bubble-wrap between games. Why jeopardize him with unnecessary hits on the field?

Which gets to Tech’s offensive line, for which I, at 5-9, 170 pounds and enough years to count on nearly all of three people’s fingers and toes, am about to volunteer. I’ve seen about enough of Tyrod getting up gimpy after some 320-pound defensive lineman, or worse, some 200-pound safety traveling at warp speed, smashes him as he lets go of the ball

I still have four years of NCAA eligibility remaining, and then I can start drawing my Social Security. I’ll sacrifice my life and health if it’ll keep Tyrod  hale and hearty. Everybody wins!