For two months leading up to the filming of “We Are Marshall” in Huntington, I pretty much thought about nothing but how I could be involved.

I wanted to write about the movie.

I wanted my college apartment on Sixth Avenue back so I wouldn’t have to listen to my friends who still live there tell me about their Matthew McConaughey sightings (or almost-sightings, as one of those crazy friends ended up at Cabell-Huntington Hospital with a sprained ankle after falling in a hole while trying to catch a glimpse of the star).

More than anything, however, I wanted to be part of the movie. Afterall, the story is part of me and everyone else who ever attended Marshall.

So when they asked for extras, I sent in my picture and resume and hoped for the best. I also talked to people I know at Marshall. (Thank you Bill Bissett and Keith Spears).

Finally, last Monday, after what seemed like forever, I received THE call.

A lady named Samantha asked if I would be available that Wednesday at 4:30 a.m.

The time was a tad bit early but ... Was she kidding? Of course I was available!

I didn’t sleep well the night before, but who sleeps well when knowing they have to get up at 3 a.m.?

I arrived at the designated area at 4:25 a.m., took a deep breath and loaded on one of two extra-carrying tour buses.

I immediately made friends with a guy named Mark who was worried the highlights in his hair weren’t “1970,” and when we arrived at the holding area, I immediately lost Mark in the crowd of 200.

After checking in with movie-type people we were sent outside to wait in a line for wardrobe.

I ended up with a polyester brown dress, very, very uncomfortable brown wedge-type shoes, a long camel coat and horn-rimmed sunglasses.

Hair was next.

My shoulder-length hair, which was sticking out on one side of my head upon arrival, was flipped and tucked and Aqua-netted to death but in the end, looked pretty good.

Makeup came next, and I’m convinced the makeup artist needed to buy more blue eye shadow after she finished with me.

After hair and makeup I went back down to wait with all the other extras, where I made friends and more friends and took pictures and more pictures.

Finally, the real part of the day got started.

Throughout the day, we filmed three scenes.

For the first scene (and the scene I most enjoyed), we walked to a pretty residential street that could have been plucked right out of 1970.

We were told to find a spot on the street or in a yard.

That part of the movie will show a crowd of people walking to the Marshall-Xavier game, the first game Marshall won following the plane crash.

My new best friend Kelli and I decided to stand across the street from all the important looking people and the cameras.

Turns out the house with all the important looking people was Jack Lengyl’s (Matthew McConaughey’s) house.

McConaughey is portraying the football coach, and in that scene, he sees the people still supporting the program, despite a big loss the week before, and comes out into the yard with his son to watch as people walk by.

The extras were told to walk down the street and look and sound excited but not too excited.

The street was lined with antique cars and one of the crew members told three guys standing beside me to get in the back of the truck and hold an old Marshall banner.

Kelli and I decided that since the crew spent so much time preparing these guys, they might make it into the movie.

After naming them Biff, Bo and Jim, we also decided to interact with them. If they’re in, we’re in.

Take after take we walked by them shouting, “Hey Biff. Cool sign. Keep rockin’ man!”

Sounds dorky, but it was fun.

Before we knew it, the morning was over.

Although they ditched 100 extras after the morning scene, Kelli and I made it through to the afternoon (and evening scenes).

I was begging for a foot transplant after the first take of the morning scene.

Since 100 people leaving meant shoes would be returned to wardrobe, I tried to get a new pair of shoes. The brown wedges were too big and the toilet paper I stuffed the toes with only hurt worse.

Unfortunately, the only other shoes they had wouldn’t work so I spent the rest of the day telling myself I wasn’t really hurting (or dying as I called it).

The afternoon scenes were two press conferences.

Both press conferences were introducing new coaches (one coach quit before Lengyl took over).

The scenes consisted of the coaches (one guy whose name I can’t remember and Lengyl), press, teachers, students and townspeople.

A lot of familiar faces will be seen during these parts as many of the journalists were local television personalities.

Kelli and I were townspeople, however, which meant we had to stand.

As with the morning shoot, we filmed the same scenes over and over.

One guy commented that all the girls shrunk three inches in between takes as they took their shoes on and off.

We broke for lunch, which was served in the alley behind the Radisson. No matter though, there were chairs.

Between takes we sometimes “took five” and went to a close-by restaurant which recently closed.

While there, we made more friends, took more pictures and rubbed our feet. It was lovely.

Finally, after 17 hours, the director said “one last time.”

It was a long day to say the least.

After signing out and turning in our clothes, we loaded on vans and buses and went back to our cars.

(By the way, it was really weird to see everyone out of their 1970-71 outfits and really weird to watch the makeup artists remove fake sideburns from the men’s faces.)

It’s been almost a week since my day as an extra and my feet still hurt. Pain aside, I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I’d have done it again the next day ... different shoes of course.

I met a lot of great people — Kelli, Aaron, Larry, Mark are just a few.

Kelli and I have talked several times since then and plan to keep in touch.

More important than anything else however, I got to be part of the movie.

When the movie comes out, maybe I’ll just be able to say ‘Hey, see that guy? I was three people over.’

That doesn’t matter though. The story isn’t about me or anyone else who was there. It’s about Marshall.

Shouting “We Are Marshall” at football games always gave me chills, but now it means more.

We really are Marshall.