I "have" only one team. I am a Mets enthusiast; I really like the Knicks; I have a basket of NFL teams about which I am excited in September and then pretty much just follow the league from then on. But, when it comes to college football, I bleed Tennessee orange.
When I was 9, my parents took my brother and I to Knoxville, TN to e University of Tennessee to see a "real" college football game and show us their alma mater. Until then, I had only been to City Stadium to see the University of Richmond Spiders take on the likes of Villanova and UMass. It was a long drive. We had to stop in Abington in Southwest Virginia, a town that looks like a Stanley Brothers song sounds. The next morning, we started off southwest again and made it to Knoxville by lunchtime.
Our hotel had a view of Neyland Stadium. I had never seen anything like it. It was HUGE. It had what looked like an office-park building looking down on the field. "What is that building, Dad?" I asked. "The press box," he said to me in a manner conveyed how big this was - SEC football.
We were there for a cupcake game; Akron I think they were playing. It didn't matter. It consumed the entire campus and surrounding city. Cumberland Avenue, the main drag going through the campus, was thronged with people wearing Orange There was a parade. There was the "Vol Walk" which is nothing more that gathering to watch the gladiators show up at the stadium. I had just never been a part of something like this.
I had also never seen my dad swept up in anything before. He's not the kind of person who "believes" in things, always swatting stuff away as "foolish" and getting back to his paper. I had seen him yelling at the TV before when this football team who wears orange was losing, but other than that, emotions weren't a big part of his fatherly workflow. He was really lifted by this, encouraging us to be, too. It was surreal.
Despite the minnows these sharks were playing against, the stadium sold out - 95,000 at that point. And the crowd as voraciously at the sixth touchdown as they did at the first. I think Tennessee won 45-7, or something like that. It was exhilarating.
Front that point on, I was emotionally tied to this team. Fortunately, they were consistently a good team. Consistently in the Top 10. Most always won their games. Always went to a bowl which they most always won. They even had a national championship in 1998. Florida, Alabama, and LSU - powerhouse giants today - were automatic wins. It was good to be at the top.
Unfortunately, the team declined. They got mediocre. They got caught inside their own heads. There were off-field incidents. There was coaching turmoil. It has been terribly difficult to watch. Agonizing.
When this team wins, I am Type A. I stand - too worked up to sit - and pace. I yell at the players, coaches, play callers, referees. Yeah, so imagine how I am when they lose...consistently.
This year, there was finally promise. A Reaganesque, "Sunrise-in-East-Tennessee" feeling. We were passing our tests. First, was NC State, a mediocre team - no breeze - that mug even beat us in years past, but we handled beautifully, sailing through 35-21. Then came our cupcake, Georgia State. Games like this had been an issue, too. But, we annihilated them. Are the Vols Back? I thought so.
And ESPN thought so, too. Tennesse's next big test was to play a ranked team, Florida. This teams has owned us for years. Getting in our heads and destroying us as well as eeking some out. This was our time. ESPN realized this and brought their GameDay to Knoxville. This one was going to be nasty and Tennessee had a chance to prove themselves again.
I have been pumped all week. Not usually one to predict things because I hate being wrong, I let go and believed - BELIEVED - Tennessee would finally get one back against this team who has do dominated us.
The first half commences. Florida strikes first, a touchdown off an impressive run. No worries. It's early. We struck with a short pass to the end zone after an impressive drive. YES! We score again and go ahead! Florida, besieged with penalties, is in disarray. Despite this, they march down the field with very little time left in the first half, but the orange wall holds them to a field goal! 14-10 at he half in favor of Tennessee. Well done! I can taste sweet victory, finally.
The second half kicks off with another impressive drive, but once again the Vols hold them to three points. 14-13. YES! Tennessee valiantly marches down the field once more and sticks in the end zone for another touchdown! 20-13. An extra point makes it an 8 point game and would sufficiently take Florida's wind out of their sails, I thought. But then, it happened. We botched the extra point. Wait, what? The roar or might Neyland stadium went off like a lot switch. Florida picks up on this and takes a shot. It works. 20-20. Now, whose wind is lost?
Tennessee's offense all of a sudden is lost, in disarray. Passes to no one. Dropped passes. Runs stopped at the line of scrimmage. Meanwhile, Florida strikes again, 27-20.
At this point, it's halfway through the fourth quarter. As if I sense the game is lost, I start to fastforward - I had it on DVR and fastidiously avoided Internet and texting all day in order to see the win for myself. I could have saved myself 3 hours. I see Florida score again. And again, but that one was called back. It didn't matter. Through speeding it up 3 times, thanks to DVR, I saw that our offense was barely on the field. Back to our old ways, I guess. Look like a troupe of hapless idiots for 3 downs and kick the ball away; slowly exhaust your defense until they give up a touchdown.
It was awful. It was gut wrenching. I felt my blood boiling. At one point, I threw the remote. I even punched a pillow. It was what I am accustomed to watching this team trip all over themselves and fall apart. It was like watching a building implode in slow motion.
So here I am again, the third Sunday in September, tossing the rest of the season in the garbage, remarking to myself that we're still not ready for prime-time. I thought this was the year. I believed. How could it end up so differently? How could I be so wrong?
This is not a common feeling for me. I am pretty down in the dumps today. Because of a sports contest gone awry. When the Mets' bullpens throws a game away from them in late innings, I change the channel. This is resonating with me, burning inside. I am scorned. I am insulted. I wish I could have been in that locker room because I need to say my piece.
Eventually, I will get past this. The baseball post-season will be upon us soon and I will forget about Tennessee and what it did to me last night. I really thought we would be restored to greatness this year. Perhaps next year and I can be heartbroken again when we have diarrhea against a team with a modicum of talent.
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