I wore shorts.

That was the first mistake in showing up for a tour of the new Cardinals Stadium out here in the desert. Then I had to be fitted with work boots and a hard hat.

Regulations around a work site, you know. Eventually, I looked like a valet for the Hell's Angels. Dressed in all black, skinny as a rail. Dorky.

"Anything else we can do for you?" one of my colleagues said sarcastically as I slipped on a pair of long pants provided by the Arizona Cardinals.

The Arizona Sports and Tourism Authority had offered a bunch of writers a tour of the almost-finished stadium out on the western edge of the Phoenix metro. It will be the site of not only the Fiesta Bowl but the new BCS national championship game on Jan. 8.

We're here for the annual BCS meetings, but it doesn't hurt to check out our future working conditions. Us working stiffs wanted to see how many amenities we'll enjoy. Several, it turns out, but that's not the story.

We took one look inside the 63,300-seat retractable-roof structure and realized Ohio State fans are going to be very happy. Color scheme? Scarlet and gray. The seats are alternately dingy gray and red throughout, sort of the Arizona Cardinals colors.

Definitely Ohio State colors. Even The Shoe doesn't look this Buckeye.

For a program that has been to the desert three of the last four seasons, this is either an omen, an invitation or an incentive. Probably all three. Ohio State is my No. 1 team right now. Toward the end of spring I've been debating whether that should change.

Then this sign from above -- and below. You see, Cardinals Stadium (it will no doubt be slapped with some corporate name at some point) has a movable field. Pretty much only the second stadium like that in the world.

Here's the deal. The 40-inch high, 234-foot wide, 403-foot long "tray" of natural grass sits outside, except for games. On game day, 76 one-horsepower motors drive the tray at 11.5 feet per minute indoors. To move the 16.9 million pounds of turf and machinery takes about 65 minutes each way.

With the tray out, Cardinals Stadium can potentially host Final Fours and regionals. With the tray in, well, one wag thought of positioning the two teams in the BCS title game on the field as it rolled in.

How would that be for drama?

Not going to happen, even with Fox now televising the games.

Arizona, Phoenix and the BCS are getting the desired splash. The $400 million structure rises out of the desert like a space ship. It's going to have all the state-of-the-art whistles and bells. There's little else around it. The structure is basically carved out of avocado fields just like its next-door neighbor, the Glendale Arena.

If you're staying in Scottsdale for the games, well, don't. It's at least a 50-minute drive out here.

Both buildings are so far west that they are halfway to L.A. There's a bunch of residential, commercial and retail being built up around it, so this is going to be a wonderland someday.

For now? It's a dusty playground with an Ohio State color scheme.

And by the end of the tour I really started to like the pants, boots and construction hat. Especially when some scruffy biker pulled up outside and asked me to watch his bike.

Make that, told me to watch his bike.

Rich Rodriguez is a native son of West Virginia.. Born in Grant Town, W.Va. Bred a Mountaineer, having graduated in 1986.

So where does his surname come from?

"My grandfather came over from Spain, worked in the mines," the Mountaineers coach said during my visit this week to Morgantown.

"Died of black lung disease."

Yes, the mines. Those of us who don't live in coal-producing states forget how important the mineral is to the state's economy, and how it is woven into the fabric of society. Mine workers gladly risk their lives daily hundreds of feet below ground because there are few jobs that will pay as well.

Randal McCloy Jr., the lone survivor from the Sago Mine disaster in January, was treated at Ruby Memorial Hospital, which is next to Mountaineer Field. When they found McCloy, his fingers were bloodied from an instinctive urge to claw out of the darkness. They found some of his fellow workers with tubes in their throats, having died sucking the life out of oxygen tanks.

The mines are a way of life -- and death -- in West Virginia. Since 1884, there have been at least 117 mine accidents in the state involving fatalties. Rodriguez remembered his dad, who worked in the mines for 27 years.

"He would come home every day and immediately go work in the garden for four hours every day," Rodriguez said. "Those guys are in such a confined area all day that they enjoy being outside."

As a youngster, Rodriguez got a look at the mines. It could have been his future, like it is for a lot of men in this state. They are noble for putting their lives at risk in order to support their families.

But Rodriguez made a promise that mining would not be his future. He was lucky. Things worked out. Coach Rod has won at least a share of the past three Big East titles. He led the Mountaineers to their first BCS bowl last season, beating Georgia in the Sugar Bowl.

No wonder there is a pride in Mountaineers football. It's a distraction from the reality of life.

Sometimes it's too easy to make fun of these small college towns.

How was it that in the 1800s, our founding fathers invariably hacked down a forest and laid out plans for an administration building? And 150 years later that's still pretty much it?

Anyway ... I took my first visit to Morgantown, W.Va., this week. The current state of college football demands it. The Mountaineers are going to start out in everyone's top 10 (my top five). Right now, Rich Rodriguez is personally responsible for the football credibility of the Big East.

Sports information director Shelly Poe has turned traffic cop with all the media requests. She loves it. West Virginia loves it. The program is so accommodating that I was practically invited practice with the 'Neers on Monday. I interviewed running back Steve Slaton, flat on his back, while the strength coach stretched out the sophomore's hammies post-practice.

Morgantown is different from college towns like Pullman, Wash., and Manhattan, Kan. only in that it is carved out of the hills (or are they mountains?). Pittsburgh is 60 miles away but it might as well be 600 miles away.

While Pullman and Manhattan make this burg look like a metropolis, Morgantown has its own, uh, charm.

Like the race for magistrate. Drive around town and it's apparent the heated campaign has come down to Jim Nabors vs. Sandy Holepit.

Not the Jim Nabors, but it's hard to the tell difference looking at the campaign poster. I'm tempted to call the office and ask for Goober (or is it Gomer?) but I'm afraid I'd be arrested by Morgantown's Capt. Jim Nabors.

Plus, I'd like a word or two with Sandy's parents. I'm sure the Holepits are nice folks but they had to know what they were doing when they named their child Sandy, right?

Question: Did Sandy Holepit ever fall in one?

Painful observation: The name couldn't have been playground-friendly.

There will be no couch-burning jokes. Morgantown is a fine community. I drove around a little bit on Monday. There is a strip mall on the outskirts of town. A river runs through it, the beautiful Monongahela. Kids are scrambling around campus between classes. But before leaving, I'm really fighting the urge to call Capt. Nabors and ask about his favorite role model.

Is it Andy Griffith or Sgt. Carter?

Pray I don't get pulled over in Morgantown after this hits the site.

I'm risking a traffic ticket hearing in front of the magistrate.