Penn State superfans: Get exclusive, in-depth Nittany Lions news, analysis and recruiting updates every day. Become a PennLive Football Insider. Only $5.99 a month. Learn more.

It’s been 20 years and LaVar Arrington still hasn’t let it go. It was the last best chance he had at a national championship, maybe the best for Penn State in the past 25 years. The chance with the team he loved most and still does even after a 7-year NFL career.

It was exactly two decades ago tomorrow and he can recall little details of that otherwise perfect autumn day in the idyllic college football setting:

“I don’t want to go into details of why it didn’t go the way we all wanted it to. But it certainly does still leave a bad taste in my mouth.”

It was November 6, 1999 when Dan Nystrom lifted a 32-yard field goal over his lunging right hand. Arrington swears he could feel it graze his index finger. But not enough to matter.

Nystrom, a freshman from a Minneapolis suburb called New Hope, lifted the kick straight over the top into a stiff breeze and dead-center through the uprights as time expired. It was the kick that allowed unranked Minnesota, led by 3rd-year head coach Glen Mason, to pull off a 24-23 win.

And it ultimately sank #2-ranked Penn State. The Nittany Lions of All-American linebacker Arrington and defensive end Courtney Brown, the first two players chosen in the subsequent 2000 NFL Draft, would never recover.

“That s--- never leaves you, man,” said Arrington on Monday. “That was the death of our season.”

The previously 9-0 Lions would be defeated the next two weeks, as well, first by the greatest quarterback in the history of the game, then by perhaps the greatest coach in the annals of the college game. They weren’t known as that then. But a comeback from 10 points down orchestrated by Michigan’s Tom Brady beat the Lions 31-27. Then, Nick Saban’s Michigan State Spartans beat them 35-28 in East Lansing.

Once a legitimate candidate for the BCS national championship game, PSU finished 9-3 and headed for the Alamo Bowl where Brown and Arrington played their last college game, a dull 24-0 shutout of a Texas A&M team that was beneath their level. That wasn’t what they had planned.

And honestly, I had not planned on it still bothering Arrington so much when I texted him on Monday morning without saying exactly what I wanted. He had a pretty good idea. He called about an hour later.

Finally, after 15 minutes of discussing the details of a terrific college football game, one that left Minnesota euphoric and Penn State devastated, I could sense Arrington had not let it go. This still bugs him?

“Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

There was a pregnant pause before I sewed up the conversation with a quiet “Wow.” And he, with a “Yeah.” At which point we both began to laugh a bit and he added:

“But I was prepared when I called. That’s why I didn’t call right away. I had to prepare myself emotionally.”

Who knew on this anniversary of a game an even score ago that Minnesota and Penn State would be meeting again, both unbeaten, both nationally ranked?

Glen Mason, the man who coached that Minnesota team, has long since retired and joined the Big Ten Network as one of its cornerstone studio analysts. But looking back at a successful career in which he turned a gig as a young assistant at Ohio State under Woody Hayes and Earle Bruce into a long head-coaching tenure resurrecting three consecutive downtrodden programs – Kent State, Kansas and Minnesota – this might have been his finest hour.

In fact, he isolates one decision he made during the lead-up to the trip to State College in 1999 as maybe his best-ever bit of coaching.

Mason noticed that Penn State had blocked an inordinate number of placekicks the past three years, primarily because of the freakishly athletic Arrington. At 6-3 and 250, he had the size and yet the explosiveness of Charles Barkley. He became known for The LaVar Leap where he vaulted both lines to envelop ballcarriers before they could even move.

Expecting a close game, Mason knew every point down to the 3s and 1s would matter. He made a decision to condition his freshman Nystrom to lift rather than simply drive his placekicks. He first had defenders stand on the backs of linemen to obstruct extra points during the Monday practice. Nystrom missed repeatedly. He used even taller defenders on Tuesday. By Thursday, Mason had defenders standing on ladders behind the line.

Nystrom learned to adapt. He began lifting his kicks and making them.

“He was a great kid,” said Mason on Thursday of Nystrom. “You know how people say kickers are flaky? Not him. He was rock-solid. He kept working on it until he got it over the ladder.”

Nystrom was a freshman, though. He remembers the Minnesota upperclassmen being convinced they could win:

“The seniors had confidence going in. They’d been there before. They’d been close before. They were like: Let’s go in here and figure out a way to get this done.”

But Nystrom had not been in any place like this before. From a western suburb of Minneapolis after his family moved from a little prairie town in the southwestern corner of the state closer to Iowa and South Dakota than any big city, Nystrom was in his first year of big-time football:

“I certainly was in awe of the stadium when we got there. It was a gorgeous fall day, a hundred-thousand people.”

To Arrington, this was home. And to him and most of the Lions, Minnesota was a speed bump on the way to the real tests, Michigan the following week and Michigan State in the finale. Take care of this errand and their ultimate goals would be before them:

“Going into the game, it felt like it was business as usual.”

Adding to the strangeness of the weekend, Arrington was hosting Jarrett Payton, his mother Connie and younger sister Brittney on a recruiting visit. Jarrett’s father, Chicago Bears and Jackson State running back Walter Payton, for my money the greatest player in the history of the game, had just died the preceding Monday after a long bout with liver disease and cancer. The younger Payton ended up signing with Miami.

Arrington had just gotten to know the family shortly before their patriarch’s death. So, he dedicated the game to Walter Payton:

“I put his number [34] on my tape. I had ‘SWEETNESS’ on my wrist tape. To me, the game had become a bigger deal, because I wanted to honor him and what he had meant to our game. I had emotions. And I’d never even met Walter Payton.”

But he believed this team of his was destined for the same sort of greatness at its own level:

“We had more athletes back then, man, than people could handle. We were like Alabama. We had five or six top-rated recruiting classes in a row. I still don’t understand why we didn’t establish ourselves as a national power in that era.”

Minnesota was anything but. It had not been to the Rose Bowl since the Kennedy administration and still hasn’t since. After a combined 8-15 record in 1997-98, Mason had coaxed his third Gopher team to 5-3. It was a 14-point underdog.

Meanwhile, Joe Paterno was in his 34th season as head coach at Penn State -- with a record of 316-80-3.

The day broke gorgeous: sunny and breezy, heading into the mid-‘60s – nirvana for State College in November.

Minnesota would make its bet with a resolute defense led by disruptive defensive end Karon Riley, a future NFL teammate of Arrington’s with the Redskins. And it ran a meat-and-potatoes offense led by dual-threat quarterback Billy Cockerham and a workhorse tailback running from the back of an old-fashioned I-formation named Thomas Hamner.

Wideouts Arland Bruce and Ron Johnson were very good but underutilized in Mason’s conservative offense. He was of the mindset of his mentor Hayes – run the ball and play defense with toughness at scrimmage. The system had worked everywhere he’d been. He wasn’t changing now.

Penn State began the game commonly crowding the box with 8 men. They would make Cockerham beat them with his arm. Initially, he could not.

And the Lions took the ball and drove it down the field on their first possession for a TD with ease on a 5-yard rumble by fullback Mike Cerimele for a quick 7-0 lead.

Mason came in armed with the knowledge of his previous trip into Beaver Stadium in his first year at Minnesota in 1997. The Gophers had built a shocking 15-3 lead in the fourth quarter against the unbeaten #1-ranked Nittany Lions. They only had to run out the clock, up 15-10 with the ball in the final minutes. But Hamner had fumbled a pitch to hand the ball back to Penn State deep in Minnesota territory. And Curtis Enis rolled in on a stretch play to pull it out, 16-15.

Mason wasn’t going to allow such a turnover, possibly borne of a reckless play call, ruin his chances this time:

“We had preached all week – patience. I had watched a lot of tape of that defense with Arrington and Brown. And every time a team got in 3rd-and-long, it was disaster.

“So, I said to my coaches, we have a 3rd-and-long, we’re calling a quarterback sneak and punting the football. I am not going backwards.”

That patience was tested. Minnesota twice punted from deep in its own territory early.

But Cockerham eventually gained a groove he would maintain the rest of the game. He hit a 24-yard strike, then scrambled to the 5. Nystrom managed to line-drive a 24-yard field goal through to get the Gophers within 7-3.

Moments later, Cockerham threw one up into double coverage at the left pylon and Johnson went and got it. Nystrom badly yanked the extra point wide left. With 14:20 left in the half, Minnesota led 9-7.

DE Riley and the Gophers’ odd blitzes out of nickel and dime coverages consistently applied pressure on PSU’s interchanging quarterbacks Kevin Thompson and Rashard Casey and the offense became disjointed.

But Thompson still managed to find Bryant Johnson with a TD pass to make it 14-9 at the half. Travis Forney hit a 44-yard field goal to put the Lions up 17-9 with 5:19 left in the third quarter. The PSU defense looked in control. But for a pair of dropped passes on potential TDs, it could’ve been over.

“The game shouldn’t have been that close,” said Arrington. “It didn’t feel like it was that close. I can still remember all of it very vividly.”

The Beaver crowd was listless and quiet.

When Cockerham hit tight end Alex Haas on a streak off play action for 49 yards to the 8, then kept on an option play from the 3 for the score, Minnesota suddenly was back in it 17-15 with a minute left in the third. Only a failed 2-point pass kept the game from being tied.

Hamner was the hammer that Mason kept wielding. At just 185 pounds, he carried an incredible 38 times for just 98 yards. Field position. Moving the sticks. Patience.

Meanwhile, Arrington was piling up 14 tackles:

“I had a really good game. But I also had a couple brain farts.”

Though he can’t be seen clearly doing so in the video footage, Arrington claimed it was his fault that Hamner got free on a wheel route that ended in a 49-yard TD pass by Cockerham:

“Cockerham had rolled out and I had Hamner man-to-man. I came off of Hamner because I didn’t think [Cockerham] would see him. Sure enough, he turned and saw him and hit him. And he went down the sideline for a touchdown.”

After another failed 2-point try, the score put Minnesota back ahead by 21-20 with 11:30 left.

Forney nailed another 44-yard field goal at 9:13 of the fourth quarter to put the hosts back up 23-21. And when Thompson connected with Corey Jones to convert a 3rd-and-5 with just 3:23 to go, it looked over. It would have been had Thompson found Chafie Fields on a skinny post on 3rd-and-10 from the Minnesota 33. But he overthrew him.

Paterno eschewed a 50-yard field goal try by Forney from the exact same spot he’d hit the left upright, way up high, back in the first quarter with the tailwind. The Lions punted into the end zone. And so, began the fateful final Minnesota drive from its own 20.

“They were in a last-ditch run to try to get down the field,” remembered Arrington. “I mean, who’s gonna drive the ball down the field on our defense in less than two minutes?”

Arrington added a sarcastic, kidding wisecrack: “Other than Tom Brady, punk-ass.”

That would be the following Saturday. Another sore subject.

Mason was ready to take a shot deep right away:

“First down, I said: ‘Call the Hail Mary.’ My coach says: ‘The Hail Mary?’ I said: ‘I’m out of patience. Call the Hail Mary.’”

From the Minnesota 20, Cockerham threw it about as far as he was capable, into the stiff wind. And Ron Johnson looked back before the PSU defenders did and brought it down amid double coverage for a 45-yard gain to the PSU 35 – with 1:41 still left. Two timeouts remaining. All the time in the world.

Mason felt the adrenaline run through his veins: “I thought, Holy s---, we’ve got a chance now.”

After a no-gain, Arrington sacked Cockerham on 2nd-and-10. And a sideline-pass incompletion created 4th-and-16 at the PSU 40 with 1:22 to go.

This time, Mason ordered what Minnesota called the “Hail Jane,” the left slot receiver Arland Bruce breaking more shallow to the outside of the wide man Johnson going deep down the sideline.

Cockerham again chose Johnson, who had two PSU defenders behind him. He was able only to volley the ball up in the air. But Bruce, arriving late behind the play, dove to scoop it from no more than a foot off the turf at the PSU 15.

Pandemonium on the Gopher sideline. Before, Minnesota had a chance. Now it had the game by the neck. This was well within the rookie kicker’s range.

“Everyone’s jumping around and super-excited on the sideline,” remembered Nystrom. “I was excited, as well.”

Then, it occurred to him in one of those flash-frozen realizations the mind makes amid the distraction of sensory overload:

“I thought: Oh, man. I’m gonna have to potentially go out and hit a field goal to win this game. I had to get into my mental preparation for doing something like that.”

Nystrom has that analytical left-brain personality that makes great golfers and billiard players and anyone who must control their emotions. Even now, at age 39, with four kids between 9 and 14 years old, you can hear an ordered, sensible individual with everything under control.

But ho-lee crap. This wasn’t just about him now. Not about this game or even this season. This was about a moment of vindication, for an entire team, an entire program that had endured decades of failure. It could all be washed away.

What were Nystrom’s thoughts?

“I felt like if I took my steps off properly, and if I kept my head down and followed through, those are kind of keys that I thought about.”

Oh, come on. That’s kicker talk. How do you forget the ramifications of this kick? It’s a chance for the most neglected program in the league to beat arguably the most decorated one. In its own palatial stadium! All the toil and ball bounces that it took for the game to get to this point. And now, it’s all on your foot. How do you forget that?

“Trying not to think about the gravity of the situation?”

Yes! How do you keep that out of your head?

[Nystrom laughed.]

“Well, it’s not easy. Like all kickers who experience those situations and are successful, they just figure out a way to be mentally tough. You use every sort of nervousness and excitement that you have and focus it on the process you need to be successful.”

Meanwhile, according to Mason, the Gophers were shouting out a reminder to Nystrom:

“When we were lining up to kick that field goal, all the players on the field were yelling: ‘Remember the ladder!’”

Paterno did not take an “ice” timeout. But the snap seemed to take forever. Arrington was revving like a dragster at the Christmas tree, starting and stopping his charge, two, then three times:

“It’s all about timing the snap in that situation. And they held the snap. I couldn’t time it."

Ironically enough, for a kick that Mason worried so much about ending up high, the snap emerged low. Punter and holder Ryan Rindels had to scrape it off the turf and spin the laces toward the posts in one seamless motion. Arrington already was airborne:

“They not only kicked it high enough, but they held the count long enough. It threw my steps off. And I didn’t get both up and out as explosively as I wanted. If I’d had my timing right, I’d have blocked the ball and it wouldn’t even have gotten off the ground.”

Arrington jumped a smidge early and seemed to be descending by the time the ball passed over his hand:

“I still thought I would get it. The kick glanced my pointer finger, man. I felt it touch my finger.”

Nystrom never saw any of this, of course, per his process:

“I kept my head down really well. I didn’t peek. By the time I actually looked up, I saw it at the end, going through. By that time, everyone else had seen it already. The linemen were getting up off the ground and looking back at me. I jumped up. Ryan was holding his hands up that it was good. I jumped up in his arms.

“It was a neat experience in the stadium, too. Because for all the people who were there and how loud it was prior to the kick, it was pretty quiet after. Other than a few hundred Minnesota fans up in the corner, yelling and screaming like crazy.”

What did it mean to Minnesota? It was bowl-eligible for the first time in 13 years. The longest such drought in the Big Ten was over.

For Penn State, it meant nothing less than the end of real meaning for its season. This team was hunting a national championship. In the age of the 2-team BCS title game, that hope was all but over.

No one knew then, but it also signaled the beginning of PSU’s Dark Ages period when the Lions went 27-36 and compiled four losing seasons in the next five. Oddly enough, the long drought’s end would be unofficially celebrated six years later when the then-unranked 2005 Lions, later to finish #3, would apply a resounding 44-14 beatdown to none other than Mason’s favored #18-ranked Gophers on that same field, a gut punch from which his program and career never recovered.

Arrington lay bent over on the Beaver Stadium turf in a right angle, face on the grass. He would sit at his stall for a long time afterward.

“My dad had to come get me out of the locker room. I just couldn’t even… I was numb. That’s all I truly remember. I was unable to function.”

Arrington still counts Penn State as his team, not the Redskins, not anything he did in the NFL. And he follows the current team with passion and adoration. He loves its swagger and the way coach James Franklin has rebranded the program as a place where players can be individuals who still form a tight team bond:

“I said it last year and I’ll say it again. These guys do not give a damn.”

In a good way?

“In a great way. They are warriors, man. I love this team.”

And that old one, too. He just wishes it had been able to fulfill its potential and what he always felt was its destiny but for one strangely mild and sunny November afternoon, half his life removed. Strange in every way. Still vivid. Still painful.

“It was weird. That was a weird day, man. … A weird day.”

FREE Nittany Lions news! Sign up now to receive our Penn State Today newsletter in your email inbox every morning. No charge.

More Big Ten and Penn State football coverage:

• Big Ten Power Poll: Bye Bye Bye near top, Penn State-Minnesota set to pop, Rutgers’ AD coach shops.

• Penn State notes: Snow possible during Minnesota game; Indiana kick time won’t be announced until Sunday.

• James Franklin has been named a top candidate for the Florida State job, latest Penn State bowl projections, and more.