Misty Eyed At the Stadium

I'm a fairly well educated fellow, advanced degree, traveled the world, and count as friends a cosmopolitan lot.  Sometimes I wish I could say I love Classical Music, or Opera, or the Visual Arts, and would rather attend a high cultural event than anything else.  Nah.  Other than family simchas, there is no place I enjoy more than being at a Canes game.

I fell in love in '79.  I was a Long Island boy who had never been to a college football game, and I took to it immediately.  And Miami was different -- the games were played at the Orange Bowl, a very urban setting, not the sort of sterile rah rah environment of most college stadia.  My friends and I would tailgate cheaply -- subs and beer -- and the Canes went 5-6 in my freshman year.  The final game was against the hated Gator (always singular, as my mentor Ed Perse taught me later on) and we beat them to give them a 0-10-1 season.  I was hooked.

The team got better, and during my first year at law school, amazingly won a championship.  But the great coach left, and I figured we had seen the glory days, but no -- we went on to win another 4 (really 5) rings under 4 different coaches.  And our tailgates got bigger and bigger as my then college and law buddies got rich.

Well, the team, after about '03, never really was great.  We'd have flashes, but then our mediocre coaches, Shannon and Golden, would let us down.  But, alas, one of our own, Mark Richt, who graduated a year before I did, returned two years ago.  And he hired a classic Miami boy, Manny Diaz, to be his defensive guy.  And, alas, and glory be, the Canes are great again.

Saturday night we played #3 Notre Dame, our long time rival.  Norman and Maria hosted a stellar tailgate, and Paul, and Barry, and Eric and Dana and Donna were all there. Paul's boy Alex, who grew up on the Canes, was beaming.  My nephew of another mister Scott flew in from Maryland just for the game.  Mirta, my sister of another mister, was my date.

We ate, and drank.  I sensed the night would be special, and I brought Stoli Elit for toasting purposes.

And the Canes dominated.  The game was essentially over by the half.  We cheered.  We screamed.

And I actually got misty eyed, realizing how great the night was, and how many years of joy I had with my closest friends, watching this team.

Wifey and the Ds get this.  I got happy texts from D2 in NYC, and D1 on honeymoon in Japan.  They shared in my happiness.

Yesterday morning, as we drank our coffee and read the Herald, Wifey told me she had a surprise -- she had taped the game, and I watched it all over again, sans commercials.  It was just as good the second time.  In fact, I realized the team was even better than I thought -- ND's single, measly TD should have been called back!

Anyway -- there's one final home game -- next Saturday at noon.  It'll be a far less raucous event -- against Virginia.  Then we travel to Pitt T Day Friday, and then the ACC Championship in NC against Clemson, who was been, the last few years, sort of like we were in the late 90s...

I hope we go all the way, but regardless, it's been a terrific ride this year. And I'm a lucky dude.