Bring in Da Noise

For decades, the noise meter added to Reynolds Coliseum's unique atmosphere.

NOTE: If you enjoy reading "One Brick Back" and would like to help offset research expenses for stories such as this one, please make a small donation to the cause and help keep posts like this free of ads. This blog entry was originally published on GoPack.com before NC State hosted North Carolina at the arena now known as the Lenovo Center.

NC State Athletics, © 2010
(Updated, 2025)

Longtime Friends Help Bring Noise Back to Reynolds | A Little Piece of Reynolds

BY TIM PEELER

Granted, we didn’t really need three electrical engineers with advanced degrees from NC State’s College of Engineering  to refurbish and update the old Reynolds Coliseum noise meter for Tuesday night’s game against North Carolina.

But the trio of former employees of a recently closed Research Triangle Park company have all had some time on their hands since the end of December and were willing to volunteer over the last few weeks to make sure the tower of lights was in perfect working order when it was rolled out to midcourt of the RBC Center for pregame introductions.

The ring-leader was Tracy Fulghum, who has a bachelor’s degree and a doctorate from NC State. He was ably assisted by Anthony Fugaro, Kevin Gard and a couple of kids who were looking to kill some time during a day off from school. (Full disclosure: Tracy was my roommate at NC State and two of the three kids were mine. This small part of the on-going effort to restore and save NC State’s athletics history got us all out of the house on a Wake County teacher work day.)

The idea to bring the noise meter back was hatched during the summer, when we started dusting off some of the items stored in the basement of Reynolds Coliseum. The goal was to have it appear once during the 100^th season of NC State basketball, then retire to a less dirty environment.

Personally, I believe it will be the perfect centerpiece in an NC State athletics museum/hall of fame, along with some other items that have been tucked away for safe keeping, when it is time for that project to proceed.

For younger Wolfpack fans and students who may not have grown up going to men’s basketball games at Reynolds, the old noise meter was a device suggested by legendary NC State basketball coach Everett Case, who wanted a little something to “pump up the volume”  long before coliseums had piped in anthems blaring over loudspeakers.

The 13 white bulbs on the meter would light up, one-by-one, as the crowd in the coliseum got louder. When the noise reached its peak – as it did many times during the David Thompson era, and in particular on a hot February afternoon in 1983 when the Wolfpack beat defending national champion North Carolina – the red light on top of the meter would flicker on, spurring the crowd to get even louder.

Opponents knew all about it. And so did the Wolfpack players.

“No question about it, you could hear when the game was revving up because the crowd saw the lights go higher and higher and they would get louder and louder and louder to get it up to the top,” said head coach Sidney Lowe. “It was one of the great traditions of Reynolds Coliseum and NC State basketball.”

No NC State player ever had to look up to see if the red light was on.

“You couldn’t really see when the top light came on,” said Rodney Monroe, the Wolfpack’s all-time leading scorer. “But you sure could feel it.”

Though I am not completely positive, the noise meter was likely built by Larry Earp, who was in charge of maintenance for all athletic facilities for decades.

“Larry could do or make anything,” said assistant athletics director for outdoor facilities Ray Brincefield, who learned a thing or two while working with Earp. “I’m sure Coach Case had the idea and Larry made it for him.”

The meter first appeared in pictures of Reynolds as early as 1954, just five years after the coliseum opened. It hung from the catwalk in the rafters, thanks to a heavy-duty cable strung through four eye-hooks, for nearly half a century.

The simplicity of the meter’s design is ingenious: it’s a sheet of quarter-inch plywood ripped into four 12-inch strips and nailed over a 10-foot-long frame made of 2X2s. There are standard light sockets for each bulb, with the wiring on the inside of the meter. For maintenance purposes, one side panel of the tower is hinged, so it can be opened for access to the wiring.

For proprietary reasons, I can’t completely explain the highly sophisticated auditory control mechanism [cough… ears] that measured the decibel level in the arena to make the lights rise and fall.

Okay, by now most people know that the meter was controlled by a facilities staff member, by running a specially made wooden block across a row of 14 light switches.

Three of the people who used to manually operate the old meter in their younger days – Brincefield, golf coach/facilities coordinator Richard Sykes, Shannon Yates – are now associate or assistant athletics directors. Brothers David and Brad Bowles, who both followed in their father’s footsteps of working in facilities at NC State, often sat in one of the upper level barges in Reynolds running the old meter. David remembers doing it as a 10-year-old, drunk with power, whipping the crowd into a total frenzy.

“It would get the crowd going like you would never believe,” Sykes said.

Even though the noise meter had been stowed in the basement ever since renovations began at Reynolds in 2004, there wasn’t a lot that needed to be done to get it back in working order. Fulghum connected all the wires and we plugged it into an outlet adjacent to the rifle range in the Reynolds basement.

Right after we located the nearest fire extinguisher. Just to be safe.

The facilities guys moved it over to the ticket office of Vaughn Towers at Carter-Finley Stadium so we could make some adjustments for its big appearance Tuesday night. We knew it wouldn’t be possible to hang it from the rafters of the RBC Center, so we had to come up with a boxed-in base with wheels to make it portable.

The thing is big – fully 10 feet tall before it was mounted onto the rolling cart. Or, as my 7-year-old said, “It’s even taller than Mr. Burleson.”

But it would have been totally dwarfed in the rafters of the RBC Center.

To make sure it was sturdy, we reinforced the frame with some 12-foot long 2X4s and screwed it tightly on the rolling cart. That probably doubled the original weight, but we didn’t want it to tip over and turn into a pile of splinters on national television.

We replaced all 52 of the 25-watt white bulbs, which might have been the most difficult part of the entire process. No one store carries that many low wattage incandescent bulbs anymore. So we’d like to thank the Lowes stores in Durham, Cary, Raleigh and, yes, even Chapel Hill for letting us raid their supplies. (We briefly considered going green, but figured that three-second delay that comes with flipping on CFLs would ruin the effect.)

And Fulghum bought four red 40-watt bulbs for the top row of lights. They were an improvement over the white bulbs that had been spray-painted red that were used originally. After several fresh coats of paint on Monday and Tuesday, we transported it over to the RBC Center on Tuesday afternoon several hours before the game.

Thanks to Wolfpack Sports Marketing interns Kristen Haller, Virginia Pace and Jessica Thurston for not tipping it over during its pre-game trek to midcourt. And thanks to the sell-out crowd for making enough noise to make the red light shine before and during the game.

Alas, Tuesday will probably be the noise meter’s only appearance at the RBC Center. It’s held up nicely for nearly half a century, but moving it from place to place takes a mighty big toll on the fragile plywood.

It’s nice to be connected with a piece of history that belongs to Coach Case and the hundreds of players that followed, but the splinters in our hands from the 50-year-old wood still hurt. There are several major dings on the corners and no one wants to see this unique icon deteriorate further.

But, as long as the sounds of Reynolds Coliseum echo in the ears of Wolfpack fans, the noise meter will have its place in the history of NC State basketball.

You may contact Tim Peeler at tmpeeler@ncsu.edu.

What it Was, Was the 1951 Ryder Cup

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© Tim Peeler, 2025

Imagine if North Carolina-born comedian Andy Griffith had been British. The accent would still be distinct, though vastly different. The confusion was practically the same. The conclusion was a little different.

What it was, was football.

Specifically, college football in Chapel Hill.

In Griffith’s case, it was the comedy routine that made him famous, a country bumpkin’s experience of wandering into a college football stadium (almost certainly UNC-Chapel Hill’s Kenan Stadium) and seeing two groups of men squaring off in between to large banks of people, monitored closely by seven or eight convicts. He recorded the routine in 1953 and it has been played innumerable times in the three quarters of a century that followed.

That routine was predated, however, by a handful of Brits and Irishmen going to the exact same venue to see something that confused them just as much as the game Griffith saw.

“I simply don’t understand what is going on,” wrote Henry Longhurst, a reporter for the London Sunday Times. “All I know is that I am doing OK as long as I holler ‘To Hell with Tennessee.’”

Three English journalists, three Scottish writers, a couple of Irish writers and nine of the 10 members of the British Ryder Cup team found themselves sitting in the press box of Kenan Stadium on a specially scheduled day off from the ninth-annual battle between U.S. and British golfers, which turned the biennial two-day competition into perhaps the greatest three-day weekend of sports anyone in the state at that time could remember. (This year's Ryder Cup will be held at Bethpage Black in New York.)

When the Pinehurst Resort owner Richard Tufts offered up Pinehurst Resort's No. 2 course to the PGA of America to host the Cup competition—fending off an effort to postpone the event to the next spring to accommodate the busy schedule of the British team—it was with the idea of having two great events over two consecutive weekends, the Ryder Cup and the North and South Open, the professional tournament that had been played for 49 years at No. 2, Donald Ross's masterpiece in the Sandhills. While there was money on the line—a total purse of $7,500 and free room and board during the week of the tournament—the North and South was not officially sanctioned by the PGA.

For $12.50, fans could attend all days of both events.

To amplify the spectacle even more, the PGA organizers agreed to take the two Saturdays of the events so that visiting golfers and writers from around the world could see American college football. The first weekend, North Carolina’s football team host top-ranked Tennessee in Chapel Hill, about 60 miles north of Pinehurst; the second weekend Duke hosted Wake Forest in Durham. It was typical for the North and South to take the day off so it would not conflict with college football in the state.

Chuck Erickson, North Carolina’s assistant athletics director and varsity golf coach at the time, came up with the idea of inviting the international golf community to the Carolina-Tennessee game and sent a letter of invitation all parties involved.

“There will be no activity at Pinehurst on Nov. 3 and Nov. 10, since football games are scheduled in this area on the two Saturdays and Pinehurst knows better than to attempt to buck a football day in this State,” wrote Durham Sun sports editor Hugo Germino. “As a matter of fact, the British first protested the proposal to have the matches played Friday and Sunday, skipping over Saturday.

“When the Englishmen were told that the North Carolina and Tennessee would play a football game on that day, they gave in—and gracefully accepted invitations to be special guests of the University of North Carolina at the game in Chapel Hill.”

There was a large reception before the game for the golfers and the press (all of 30 American and six British journalists) before the game at an alumni building adjacent to the football stadium. Only three of the American players, who were quite familiar with football, bothered to attend, with most of them taking the opportunity to go elsewhere for paid exhibitions. 

U.S. captain Sam Snead drove from Pinehurst to Florence, South Carolina, for an exhibition, earning him the nickname in local papers of “Scrammin’ Sammy. North Carolina natives Clayton Heafner of Charlotte and Skip Alexander of Lexington went to the game. Alexander, less than a year after being the lone survivor of a military airplane crash, was the sentimental hero of the weekend.

While some of the British golfers were familiar with the sport of American football, the foreign press pool was not. Not even halftime tea—a seemingly perfect intermission snack in Chapel Hill—made them feel more comfortable.

Here are the thoughts of Britain’s most acclaimed sportswriter of the day, Desmond Hackett of the London Daily Express, as he watched along with 42,000 spectators as the Volunteers rolled up a 27-0 victory over the Tar Heels en route to its first ever national championship.

“They tried to tell me that this was a tough-guy game, a piece of legalized mayhem that made bullfighting look sissy. No sir. Any professional rugby club in England could eliminate the heavily armored characters who ambled in and out of this game.

“The England men do not need the insurance policy of crash helmets and more padding than a horsehair couch. They wear extremely brief shorts and cotton shirts and in this rig I feel sure they could beat the long pants off these American huskies. That is merely my opinion, an opinion which I freely express because I shall be able to duck out of town.

“Back in England, the men of rugby football play forty minutes each way with one 10-minute interval. They would gulp at the idea of bringing in substitutes or that amazing all-change system when a team breaks off the defense shore and moves on the attack.

“We love your beautiful North Carolina girls who so sweetly led the organized cheering.  We feel sure they mean well but most of their best efforts appeared to inspire brisker action from the opposition members.

“The England crowd do not need any of this artificial stimulant, they up and roar their heads off when they feel so inclined. And this goes for the carriage trade in the grandstands. A polite hand clap was the nearest thing to a bust of enthusiasm that the upper set could arouse.

“There seemed to be considerable respect for the extensive panel of referees and the supporting cast of the chain gang who appeared to be taking constant ground survey in the middle of the affair. The English crowd stand up for their right to question the verdict of the referee. They are not slow to state their willingness to buy him glasses on account of his short-sightedness, or to suggest that he could not move so well because of the money tucked into his boots by the rival managers.

“But this American way of football is gay and colorful and I suppose a great game if you can guess what is going on. It is way ahead of England in its setting. This dignified arena in the glade of the deep green pines is among the finest sporting prints I have ever seen. So thanks for a wonderful memory.”

The parties all returned to Pinehurst after the game and, the next day, watched the Americans finish off a 9 ½ to 2 ½ victory against the overmatched Brits. Tennessee went on to win a disputed national title, despite following a perfect regular season with a loss to Southern Conference member Maryland in the Sugar Bowl. Coach Carl Snavely's Tar Heels finished a limp 2-8.

And no one stepped in anything.

Zero First Downs and a Win Over Virginia

© Tim Peeler, 2025

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After being dormant for 37 years, NC State and Virginia renewed their college football rivalry on Sept. 30, 1944, in a showcase game in the middle of World War II in the nation’s biggest Navy town.

So of course it was raining harder than an Atlantic squall on the deck of an aircraft carrier. The turf at Norfolk’s Foreman Field was sloppier than pig racing at the State Fair.

The Wolfpack won 13-0 despite having a half-blind halfback, a war-reduced travel roster of just 28 players and a kicker whose German surname literally meant “goat foot.”

Also, the Wolfpack didn’t make a first down in the entire game, the only time in NCAA history a winning team failed to make 10 yards on a possession.

It’d be nice to say the game was a war-time anomaly, but scoring wasn’t too common for the Pack and Feathers’ version of the wing-T offense. It didn’t help that the team’s pre-game walk-through the day before in Newport News, Virginia, was cancelled because of rain. The Wolfpack didn’t cross midfield in the first half and did so only once in the second.

On gameday, neither the Wolfpack nor the Cavaliers could move the ball effectively. Virginia was better on the ground, putting up more passing and rushing yards and gaining 14 first downs, but they fumbled the ball eight times in the water-logged game.

The Wolfpack, under first-year coach Beattie “Big Chief” Feathers, didn’t really even try to move the ball, punting it away on first or second down on every possession of the first half. At the height of the rain, Virginia also took to punting on third down just to get rid of the soggy and slippery pigskin.

There were a couple of extenuating circumstances that caused such limitations.

First, the game was played fewer than 15 weeks after D-Day, the Allied invasion to retake the European continent. As there were more important global matters at the time, every team in the country had limited access to qualified players, except for some of the pre-flight programs that actively recruited top-notch athletes to train as bomber and fighter pilots.

At State, most of the regular students had 4-F status, which meant they were unfit for military service for health, mental or moral reasons. State star running back Howard “Touchdown” Turner, a three-sport standout in football, basketball and baseball, was denied U.S. Army service because of poor eyesight three times during his NC State career.

There were more than 4,000 perfectly fit trainees on campus during that time, but the Army did not allow its officer trainees to compete in college athletics, unlike the U.S. Navy trainee programs at UNC-Chapel Hill and Duke.

Both State and Virginia had reduced rosters. State traveled with just 28 players, which was more than dressed out for the season-opening 27-7 victory the week before against Milligan, in Feathers’ first game. Feathers, however, went into the game planning just to use one platoon (no substitutes) on offense and defense.

Secondly, that afternoon, Norfolk’s Foreman Field was practically under water as nearly two inches of rain fell during the course of the game, which was the first meeting between the neighboring schools since 1908. Even State’s practice the day before in Newport News was canceled because of rain.

For three quarters, neither team could move the ball. In fact, State didn’t even try in the wet conditions, punting the ball away to Virginia on either first or second down of every possession. The Cavs, mostly buried in their own territory, made it past midfield a few times, but never really threatened the goal line and also began kicking the ball on third down.

Early in the fourth quarter, as the heavy rain started to subside, Virginia half back Dick Michels attempted to punt the ball away on third down. The center snap flew over his head and when he tried to recover it, the ball squirted into the end zone.

There, NC State running back Lum Edwards of Big Stone Gap, Virginia, fell on the ball for the first touchdown of the game. Kicker Mendel Zickefoose of Buckhannon, West Virginia, kicked the extra point for a 7-0 lead.

Five plays later, Virginia again had the ball deep in its own territory following a clipping penalty on the kickoff, a 2-yard loss on a rushing attempt and an 8-yard loss on a fumbled snap.

When Michels tried to punt the ball away near his own end zone, the snap was low and it slipped by the kicker and into the end zone. NC State’s Tony Gaeta fell on the loose ball for the second gift of the game. Zickefoose's PAT attempt failed.

The Wolfpack recorded the shutout win despite just 10 yards of total offense and no first downs. It was the first of four wins against teams from Virginia, Feathers' home state, in his debut season.

NCAA records are rare for most teams, unless they are one of the major football factories. For State, kicker Marc Primanti still owns the NCAA individual record for his perfect 1996 season, in which he made all 20 field goals and all 26 PATs en route to winning the Lou Groza Award as the nation’s best kicker. Linebacker Nate Irving owns the individual record for making eight tackles for loss against Wake Forest on Nov. 18, 2010.

State owns two other team NCAA records, one for the most consecutive passes attempted without a running play (32 at Duke on Nov. 11, 1989, in a 35-26 loss) and another for the most tackles for loss in a single game (24 vs. Florida State on Nov. 11, 2004).