UNIVERSITY PARK, Pa. — Paul Cianciolo hustles out of Beaver Stadium as beads of sweat roll down his face and dozens of lingering fans crowd around, hoping to get one last autograph from Saturday’s Blue-White festivities.
"Good luck, Paul," one fan shouts, as the Nittany Lions quarterback begins to pick up his pace.
Other players exit the stadium behind him, greeting family members anxious to spend the evening with their sons. For most of the players, their hectic day is coming to a close. After a grueling scrimmage in front of more than 70,000 sun-burnt fans, now it’s time to have dinner with relatives, shop downtown with girlfriends, and just relax.
But for Cianciolo, his day isn’t over. Not even close. With the lyrics to the national anthem beginning to float across the parking lot, a doubleheader for the Penn State baseball team is just minutes from first pitch.
Paul has to be there. As a relief pitcher with the Lions, he doesn’t have time to "relax."
After all, it’s almost 4:30 p.m., and he’s been running since noon.
12:45 p.m.: The Beginning
A toddler resting on the shoulders of his dad waves a football in Cianciolo’s face, begging for an autograph and using every ounce of energy to make sure Paul sees it.
The kid is no more than 5 years old, donning a white Anthony Morelli jersey two sizes too big. For him, it’s his one chance to get close to one of his heroes.
A quick sign of his name, and Cianciolo grabs the next piece of apparel being shoved in his face, making sure to thank each adoring fan.
Hundreds of fans crowd around down on the field, pushing Penn State visors, T-shirts and replica helmets in the eyesight of any football player with a Sharpie in hand.
Some players grow tired of the admiration, signing only a few items then heading back to the locker room. But Paul doesn’t leave. Despite his tight-to-the-minute schedule, he signs. He signs and signs, and just when he looks like he’s headed back in the tunnel, he signs some more.
"Hey Paul," a fan shouts as the final players begin to head off the field.
"What? How do you know my name?" Paul responds, cracking a smile as he sees a little girl, complete with Nittany Lion tattoos on each cheek and hoisting a Penn State hat up in the air.
The girl is lucky. She’s the last person to receive Cianciolo’s autograph, as he picks up pace to put his pads and helmet on.
He’s ready to take the field — but not before stopping underneath the tunnel to greet some alumni. Former players Justin King, Michael Robinson, Terrell Golden and Morelli are all hanging out in front of the locker room doors. King is enjoying a Minute Maid frozen Lemonade, while Golden continuously tosses a water bottle in the air, pausing briefly to jaw with Cianciolo and the other players jogging off the field.
Five minutes later and Paul is back out of the locker room, heading on to the field in full uniform. The time to talk to fans and former players is over. Now it’s about this year’s squad.
2:35 p.m.: On the Gridiron
Cianciolo drops back in the pocket, pauses for what seems like an eternity, then fires a pass over the middle, connecting with tight end Andrew Szczerba for a 5-yard pass.
Fans stand and applaud. First down, White squad.
He looks like a leader on the field, commanding his troops at the line of scrimmage, using his trusty shrunken play chart on his left wrist as a guide.
On the next series, however, a short pass intended for wide receiver Brett Brackett is picked off by linebacker Tyrell Sales. After a short return, Sales appears a little shaken up on the play, only to find out Cianciolo, the man who gift-wrapped the ball to him, plowed right into the senior to make the tackle.
A minor setback for Cianciolo, currently the team’s third-string quarterback. For him, hearing countless fans and media talk about the "QB battle between Daryll Clark and Pat Devlin" isn’t discouraging.
In fact, for a guy who says he’s not in it for all of the publicity, playing on the field is just his time to help his team, even if his name isn’t always brought up in starting quarterback discussions.
"I definitely feel like I belong in the battle," Cianciolo says. "I think there are things I do better than the other two, but each of us do things well. Whoever starts the first game is going to be a freshman, really, because we don’t really have that much experience, but I’m in there to hopefully be a part of a national championship team."
5:30 p.m.: Bullpen
Out in the bullpen, the Lion pitchers all sit together. With temperatures hovering around 75 degrees, and a slight breeze providing some solace to the setting yet hot sun, all of the pitchers are at the edge of the ‘pen, joking around as the game plays on.
Paul, on the other hand, is enjoying the spring weather from the inside of the bullpen. Stretched out on the bench, with his slightly worn cap tilted over his eyes, it appears as if Cianciolo has succumbed to fatigue.
"Oh no, I wasn’t sleeping," Paul says jokingly after the games. "I was ready and rearing to go. I was just resting my legs in case they needed me to throw. Fortunately, they didn’t need me today. Sometimes it’s good not to be needed."
With the Lions winning Game 1 behind a lights-out performance from starter Mike Wanamaker, there is a brief, half-hour intermission before the teams began Game 2. As Paul uses this time to stretch out around the field, his dad Fred runs down to the dugout, signaling for his son to come over.
"He was just doing the ‘dad’ thing," Paul said. "Making sure my arm was OK."
Cianciolo isn’t needed in Game 2, either. Behind another solid pitching performance, the Lions close the door on the day’s doubleheader, complete with a firework display that leaves the team paralyzed in front of the dugout with their heads to the sky.
9:15 p.m.: Winding Down
As the team heads back into the locker room to shower and change, Cianciolo and a group of players make their way back onto the field.
"Gotta roll out the tarp," one guy says.
It’s a team tradition. Following games, it’s up to the players to spread the tarp over the infield, in preparation for the upcoming rain.
Just another item on the list for Cianciolo.
After a team talk with coach Robbie Wine, Paul’s day is finally over.
His pace has slowed almost to a stop, and his congratulatory handshakes and high fives to his teammates reveal his exhaustion. His fatigue is deserved, however. From playing football in front of 73,000 people in Beaver Stadium, hustling over to Medlar Field for a doubleheader, to rolling out a gargantuan tarp as the day’s finale, Paul’s plans are simple, and to him — a "perfect ending" to this year’s Blue-White weekend.
"Crashin’," Paul says. "I’m going to get something to eat and then I’m crashing. With the family in town, whatever my mom makes [I’m eating], which is an awesome deal.
"It was definitely a great day, but I’m exhausted."