It is approximately 18 hours before
the season officially begins. In 18
hours the University of Nebraska Cornhuskers begin another season of football .
. . its 123rd season . . . against the University of Wyoming
Cowboys. It shouldn’t be much of a game,
but who knows . . . nah, it won’t be much of a game. With 18 hours to go, the excitement and
anticipation build for those of us who bleed red . . . football season is about
to begin.
Unfortunately, thanks to being out in
the middle of Montana—Grizzly Bear and Bobcat country—and, being cheap . . . I
won’t be able to watch the game on television.
Oh, it is on television, if I want to pay to watch the game, but I am
pretty cheap . . . especially when it is a game against . . . well, you know .
. . Wyoming. Thank goodness for the technology
of the day where I can get play-by-play on the Internet . . . it is almost like
listening to the games way back when there was only radio. I will survive . . .
The University of Nebraska Cornhusker
obsession in the Keener family is solid . . . I am a die-hard fan, three of my
children are die-hard fans, the wife rides the fence, and one child hates the
Huskers despite being born and raised in Nebraska . . . he is a Virginia Tech
Hokie fan. What the hell is a
Hokie? Their mascot is a turkey. I should know, I had two cousins who
graduated from Virginia Tech . . . one was even a male cheerleader for the
Hokies. I still wonder if I dropped this
child during a Cornhusker game around Thanksgiving causing him to be a Hokie
fan . . . I often wonder where I failed as a parent with him. He hates it when the Huskers are on
television . . . complains that it is ridiculous at how the rest of the family
acts.
Oh well, not being able to speak for
the rest of the family, I can only say that I have improved over the
years. I hardly ever yell at the
television any more . . . hardly swear at the television any more . . . hardly
threaten to throw a bottle or other object at the television any more. I don’t know whether it is maturity or the
fact that I start drinking beer hours before the game . . . tailgating, you
know. I have calmed down . . . except
when Brent Musberger is announcing the games . . . then all bets are off . . .
the guy has never said anything positive about the Huskers. Whenever he is covering the game for ABC, I turn the sound off . . . it is
cheaper than replacing the television because I threw a bottle or shoe at the
screen.
As I cannot understand how anyone can
root for a turkey, my son cannot understand how I can root for some guy who
picks and husks corn. Once again, I
remind my son that it is better than what the team used to be known as
throughout the years of their tradition.
In the beginning they were known as the Bugeaters . . . then the Tree
Planters . . . the Rattlesnake Boys . . . Antelopes . . . and, even the
Hawkeyes. Surprisingly, the University
of Iowa team was known as the Cornhuskers in the early years of their football
program . . . only when they took over the Hawkeye name did Nebraska become the
Cornhuskers. But, at least we don’t gooble! Yet, at the same time, I can respect my son’s
choice . . . maybe I don’t understand it, but I can respect . . . I can respect
it as long as he respect mine. When he
doesn’t, well . . . I remind him whose house it is and who is paying for the
cable.
I don’t watch a lot of television . .
. about four hours a month. When football
season rolls around . . . I watch Cornhusker football wherever I can find it on
the television. It is the only
television I watch. Once again, though,
Montana is not a big market for Cornhusker football . . . after all, this is
Grizzly and Bobcat country. Thus it is
that I relish those few opportunities that the Huskers are on television, much
to the chagrin of this son of mine.
Luckily, for him, the Huskers are not on our set tomorrow.
I am not sure how anyone explains
their deep affection and love for a sports team. I have been a Cornhusker fan since moving to
Nebraska way back in the dark ages of the 1970s. I have embraced the lore and myth of this team
. . . I bleed red. I have rejoiced in
the greatest moments, and lamented in the lowest. I am a part of the Husker Nation . . . my
license plates on my VW Jetta and Ford Ranger sport statements that are
references to the Big Red. The one reads
“Bugetrs” (Bugeaters), while the other is “NU SKRS” (Nebraska University
Husker). Unfortunately most Montanans—unique
in the way they see and pronounce everything—think that “Bugetrs” has to do
with accounting, and the “NU SKRS” means that I am a new skier. Duh!!
Oh well, such is life. The fact is that in 18 hours the Cornhuskers
begin their 124th season as a football power. I know that people do not understand the
fascination and loyalty of Cornhusker fans . . . but, hey, have you ever been
to Nebraska? If you have, then you
should understand the loyalty of Husker football fans.
In 18 hours, the season begins. It will be what it is . . . for better or
worse . . . for in sickness and health . . . the season begins. I will continue to root for my team . . . root
for the boys who make up the team . . . and, I hope, always stay loyal no
matter how much they underestimate a team.
Tomorrow it is the Cowboys of the University of Wyoming. On paper it does not look like much of a game
. . . but, in real life, it is wide-open.
Trust me, I have lived and died following Cornhusker football.
With the first kick-off last night,
the football season has begun. The blood
pressure has risen . . . it is almost more than I can wait for. Go Big Red . .. GBR!!!
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