After some time apart, which we both agreed was a good idea, Football Season has come back into my life. We are both excited.
My team of choice hails from the University of Arkansas at Fayetteville and is known as the Razorbacks, or more colloquially, “the Hogs.” Well, team of “choice” is probably wrong: the Razorbacks are mine as my alma mater and as a natural born citizen of the State of Arkansas. I bleed Razorback red. (Sure, everyone bleeds that color; I’m just proud of it.)
This could be our year. Okay, we all know that it’s not going to be our year. We are (generously) picked in the middle of the pack in just our half of the conference. Five of our twelve games are against preseason ranked teams—and we are unranked. And I should admit that it has never been our year, at least not since 1964, which was the year the Beatles appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show and Lyndon Johnson declared war on poverty.
But watch out Louisiana Tech! Razorback Stadium will be rocking on Saturday afternoon, decked out in blazing red and calling the Hogs, and Razorback Nation including fans from Fayetteville to transplants in of all places Malibu, California, will tune in and dream that somehow, against all odds, this turns out to be our year. Knowing that it won’t.
So what exact flavor of stupidity is this sport? It seems to be an annual recipe for national depression redeemed only in part by a shared hatred of Alabama. Oh, but it is not. Most definitely not. No, in the pursuit of the lofty prize that only one (darn Alabama) will receive, we will experience the most amazing moments. Guaranteed. Every year. I have never experienced a Razorback national championship football season, but I was there for the Miracle on Markham in 2002. I was there in 2007 when we took down top-ranked LSU in Death Valley in multiple overtimes. What memories!
There is one lesson that I tried to instill in my daughters using my very best fatherly-advice voice: Have a goal in life and go for it, but don’t get too caught up in the destination. Wonderful things happen on the journey toward our crazy dreams.