That time NC State pulled out a last-gasp win, courtesy of football star Dick Christy

The game and season appeared over. N.C. State was on the verge of its third tie of the year, ending hopes for a first ACC football championship and the rare opportunity to outshine Everett Case’s powerhouse basketball program.

Then, after the final gun sounded and South Carolina fans swarmed their home field on that cold, misty autumn day, the Wolfpack was offered a last chance at victory and league supremacy. That the opportunity was seized in implausible fashion by All-American Dick Christy, capping what arguably remains the most impressive individual performance ever in an ACC game, is still worth commemorating.

Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be. No need to go into detail – these days unpleasant incidents emerge from the past with disheartening regularity, competing with newly minted missteps to create a disturbing diary of disappointment. Which makes it all the more satisfying to savor, to remove from the safety deposit box of memory, the improbable moment of glory N.C. State and Christy engineered 60 years ago this week.

Little was expected of the ’57 Wolfpack squad, coach Earle Edwards’ fourth. They played only three games at their campus home, Riddick Stadium, capacity 10,600, considered so inadequate it cast doubt on N.C. State’s fitness to join the new ACC in 1953. Like a contemporary Olympic sport, football had a modest 13 full scholarships and seven partials. Then-offensive line coach Pat Peppler noted that was far less than league powers like Clemson, highlighting a vast gulf in resources and ambition between the schools.

But N.C. State compiled a surprising 7-1-2 record, powered by the ACC’s top scoring defense in 1957. Yet it yielded 26 points, 21.4 more than its average in nine previous outings, in the Nov. 23 finale against the also-ran Gamecocks. “Those guys were big,” recalls tackle Dick DeAngelis, who went 6-1, 195. “I was pretty big. I got my ass kicked.”

Edwards, the ’57 ACC coach of the year, embraced a close-to-the-vest offensive philosophy endemic to the times that regarded a forward pass as just short of playing Russian roulette. The Wolfpack had only 17 first downs via pass all year, averaging 50.2 yards per game in the air. Seven ACC quarterbacks have thrown for more yardage in a single contest than the 502 the Pack amassed that entire season.

State compensated for its paltry passing production with a 186.8-yard net average on the ground behind an unbalanced line, the majority generated by the “Pony Backfield” of Christy and Dick Hunter. The cover of the season’s media guide aptly featured a drawing of the backs pulling a harness-racing sulky beneath the legend, “We’re Bettin’ on the Ponies!”

That was a particularly wise wager at Columbia’s Carolina Stadium. The Wolfpack fell behind 19-6, only to respond with three unanswered touchdowns to take a 26-19 lead. All four of its touchdowns in the game came on rushes by the 5-10, 180-pound Christy. The senior also made a pair of extra points. Hunter, the usual kicker and an outstanding blocker and defensive back, had missed two previous tries.

“Christy was good in all phases of the game,” said USC star Alex Hawkins. Peppler called him “the ideal back.” The Philadelphian, killed in an auto accident in 1966, led the ’57 Wolfpack in rushing, scoring, kickoff returns and pass receiving.

N.C. State couldn’t hold the lead despite its facility at suppressing opponents’ scoring; the Gamecocks tied the game with 1:09 to go on a double reverse. Soon enough it appeared the Wolfpack’s fate rode on a long, desperate pass, of all things. The throw was intercepted by Hawkins, later a 10-year NFL player. Hawkins grabbed the ball near his own 15-yard line, raced up the sideline, cut to the middle of the field and was tackled from behind deep in N.C. State territory. As he hit the turf the final gun sounded.

“That was certainly one of the best football games that we ever played, for sure,” Hawkins recalled. “It had all the drama in the world.”

But the drama had one unexpected act left to play.

A pass interference penalty was called against South Carolina on State’s long pass. Since a game can’t end on a defensive violation, the field was cleared of celebrants and the ball spotted where the Wolfpack could try one last heave or a long, unlikely field goal.

“Dick Christy yells to coach, ‘Coach, I can kick it!’ ” recalls DeAngelis, 81. Asked how often he’d seen his classmate attempt field goals in practice, the former owner of Amadeo’s, the Italian restaurant on Western Boulevard packed with N.C. State memorabilia, says, “Never.” Peppler, the assistant coach, greeted Christy’s return to the field to attempt the potentially decisive 46-yard field goal, kicking tee in hand, by exclaiming, “He’ll never make it!”

To lend perspective, until the widespread advent of two-platoon football, players competed on both offense and defense. There were no scholarships to spare for kicking specialists. This season, even employing scholarship kickers and snappers, most with years of training and a college kicking coach, through games of Nov. 11, ACC teams converted 13 of 30 field goals, 43.3 percent, from between 45 and 50 yards. Hardly automatic.

“The ball was low, and it seemed to hang in the heavy air,” Jack Briebart wrote in The News & Observer of Christy’s straight-in kick. “But it reached its mark, and it was accurate.” DeAngelis got a glimpse from his blocking position on the field. “He kicked it, and we won. It was wonderful.”

Unfortunately, the football team was barred from postseason play. Duke went to the Orange Bowl instead as the ACC representative and was smoked by Oklahoma. Case, the heralded father of ACC basketball, had incurred a four-year NCAA penalty for recruiting violations that applied to the entire N.C. State athletic program. The punishment is generally regarded as the NCAA’s most severe until Southern Methodist got the death penalty nearly 30 years later.

“I thought it stunk,” Hunter, the running back, told me in 2007 of the football team’s bowl exclusion. Peppler lamented the lost opportunity to gain national recognition. “We couldn’t say much because basketball had been the dominant sport,” he said in an exclusive interview a decade ago. “It was tough.”

Still, N.C. State was the official ACC champion. And Christy, with all the team’s points in the 29-26 clinching victory, including that wholly unexpected, last-gasp field goal, earned quiet immortality, his single-game scoring production the undisputed standard in conference history.

This story was originally published November 20, 2017 at 11:50 AM with the headline "That time NC State pulled out a last-gasp win, courtesy of football star Dick Christy."