On, Nebraska!

Well, that's not the Cornhusker cheer, but it's close enough. I just returned from a great visit to the most Midwestern parts of the Midwest. My fellow Canes fanatics and I try to go to an away game each year, and this year the most appealing was a trip to Lincoln, NE, to take in a classic college venue. So last Friday am I fetched Mike at 5 am, and we headed to MIA for our voyage via Atlanta. We got packed into a small jet, and Mike and I aren't tiny men, and we agreed a coach seat on a Delta MD 88 is no way for grown men to fly. Still, we made it without incident, and headed to Hertz, where Mike had reserved a van. Not so fast -- they gave us an Infiniti SUV, which meant even more squeezing in for our group. So it would be... Mike and I headed to Downtown Omaha, which is a clean, boring city. We stopped into a place called "Ingredient," where the counter guy gave us some grief about our Canes shirts. But the manager came over, said "I LOVE MIAMI," and ordered our lunch to be half price. As we chowed down, he came and sat with us. His name is Greg, and he has a daughter who went to UM and UM Law. Affable fellow, he was, and was a harbinger of the warm welcome we'd get in Nebraska. We've heard of Minnesota nice. I've been there, and can now conclude they were taught to be nice by Nebraskans. Everywhere we went, decked out in our invading colors, the people would welcome us and wish us luck. Dr. Barry and Scott, grizzled New Yorkers, even though Scott was born at South Miami Hospital, found this eerie. They're Jets fans, and expect to be shouted that their teams suck. It wasn't happening in the Heartland... We went back to the airport and fetched Barry and Scott, and then headed to the Old Market section of the city, which is converted warehouses now housing restaurants and galleries. We drank beer, and met a street sax player, who treated us to a somewhat varied version of the Canes fight song. We stopped back to the airport and fetched Chris, Mike's boy in from LA and his USC days, and headed to the hotel. There we met PAul, Alex, and Alex's bro in law Derek. From there we caravanned to the Drover Steakhouse, there since 1968, with a salad bar and steaks soaked in whiskey. We toasted our Canes, and our friendship. We left at 10, and the place was DESERTED. A waitress told us everything in Omaha closes at 10. I thought that was much better matched for me than Miami, where some places don't open until after midnight... The next am we trucked to Lincoln, past farms and more farms. We hoped for crisp weather, but it was as hot as home. We stopped into a Costco -like place, and shopped for essential tailgate supplies. Alex, now joined by his other brother in law Dean, in from NYC, went to a Home Depot and scored a grill. We found a lot near the NU softball field, and set up our tailgate. Although we missed Norman's touch, we put together a serviceable party -- grilling Brats, in homage to being in the Midwest. Even health consciuous Paul and Alex scarfed down hot dogs and burgers... From there we went to Downtown Lincoln, which was packed with Husker fans, and partied with them. Again -- only nice folks, and a wonderful atmosphere. I ran into D1's friend Irena and her boyfriend and his friend, and we took a photo to send back to Brickell. We packed into Memorial Stadium along with close to0 95,000 others, and watched our Canes stink. Badly. We still think of the powerhouse teams of the 80s, 90s, and early 2000s, but those days are long gone. We crawled back to Omaha, and everyone except Mike and I left early. Mike and I boarded our planes, and I met a nice fellow who lives in Miami, where he works for a Fortune 500 company, but was born and raised in small town Nebraska. We chatted about the game, and our kids, and next thing I knew he told me to have D2 send him a resume. You never know...it's all about connections in life. On the final leg, the flight attendant was an affable GErman lady, who usually works Delta's international routes, but was covering ATL-MIA for a friend. She took a liking to my seatmate and me -- he was a nuclear engineer who consulted for FPL and was a big Clemson fan. She gave us each some small JAck Daniels bottles for the road -- the first time I got anything extra in coach. So all in all, it was a stellar weekend. As for our team...