Story #4: A Father and Sons Story
I’m quite fascinated by what you’re doing and wanted to respond to your call for fan experiences. I am 34, my wife and I received undergraduate degrees from UNL, and we now have three little boys under the age of 5. About 18 months ago, I wrote the following essay describing my oldest son’s first game. My first Husker game (as seen through my Dad’s eyes and heart): On the day of our 300th consecutive sellout, I turned two years, five months, and three weeks old. I’d seen many games on television. At first, there were many games I’m glad I can’t remember (especially before I turned one). But things had been changing. Mommy cheered louder. Daddy smiled more during the games – all week, in fact. Husker football felt right again, they said, and that seemed to bring our family even closer. I could throw the bones well before age two, sang “There is No Place Like Nebraska” shortly thereafter, and wore my Husker jersey proudly. It was time for me to experience Memorial Stadium. Daddy, Mommy, and my Grandpas seemed particularly excited (and a little choked up). My Godfather even flew up from Texas. My aunts and uncles joined in a party by the train station. All this to celebrate my first game! We walked together to the Stadium, surrounded by even more red than in our Husker basement. I saw families like ours everywhere. Once inside, I loved the airplanes and red balloons (although adults should let kids hold them; there’s no way we would let them go so easily). Val’s pizza. My first Mountain Dew. My aunt signing the National Anthem for the hearing impaired on the big screen, and tears in Grandpa’s eyes when I put my hand over my heart. As I’ve gotten older (I’ve been four for some time now), the part I most remember is going with my family. Daddy’s been to more than 50 games and seen national championship teams, but he says my first game is his greatest Husker experience. Maybe someday he’ll even get to see me on that big screen.