Not Necessarily In That Order

Growing up in the South (yes, we capitalize it!), for a lot of folks, life revolves around three primary tenets: God, Family and Football. And given the time or circumstances, not necessarily in that order. And although it may sound cliche, or like a cop-out, it can become really difficult to describe to someone not from where I'm from.

Football is as much of a part of how we're raised as our church is, or how our family functions and operates. You're literally born into it. In my little corner; you're either Bama or, well, that other school in the state. If you don't believe me, consider this: It's a popular choice in many instances for the parents of a newborn child in Alabama to forgo the "cute" blue or pink beanies usually planted on babies in hospitals because they've brought their own crimson or orange ones to the party. You gotta raise that kid "right" from the very beginning. You grow up hearing all the men in the house "whoopin' and hollerin'" in the living rooms on Saturday afternoons, on Sundays you gather around to discuss what happened in the game before Sunday School or "Big Church" starts, on Monday-Friday you spend your recesses on the school playground playing football in the dirt with pinecones; Alabama v. Auburn (no-one represents any one player, you represent the team out there in that dirt), and then after school, it's more of the same. You live and breath it the entire year. And on some days, like during the Iron Bowl (Alabama/Auburn), the entire state stops moving for a few hours (it used to be my favorite workday of the year at the mall, because during that one game, the mall was almost completely empty -- you were a nut for being there during that game).

I grew up as a lot of kids do during that time, appreciating my team because that's just kind of what you did. Even if you didn't understand the game, or get exactly what the deal was, you still grew up being groomed for it -- to take the mantle one day and instill it in your own kids. You might not "whoop" it up yourself on Saturdays (you were too busy being a kid, after all), but if one were to ask you "who you rooted for" there would be no hesitation whatsoever in your answer. You just sort of "float along" being a "fan", until one day, something changes. And for different people at different times. It's almost like a good kind of asbestos poisoning. One day you wake up and you've just been surrounded by it, and inundated, and "raised" with it for so long, that it's just become a complete and total part of who you are. The switch is flipped, and it becomes an all-consuming desire in your heart. You're not a child anymore. You've grown up.

For me, the year was 1992. When I look back it was only a delay of the inevitable. A lot of people may look at it as an easy pick since that year we won a championship, but the truth is, I have no doubts whatsoever that had I actually lived in America, and more importantly Alabama, before that year I would have been just as much a fan during that time as I became that year. The seeds had long since been planted. I watched them play every game that year and I fell completely in love. It seems only fitting that that year was capped with a National Championship -- unfortunately, it would be a very long 17 years before I'd experience such elation again.

The next 17 years wrought a lot of changes. Primary among them may be my move away from Alabama to California. While it was difficult to leave family behind, make no mistake about it, it was almost as difficult to leave behind Alabama football. Listening to Eli on the radio on Saturday afternoons was gone, as was the odd game that was actually televised. It became harder to follow them at time, but the devotion never wavered one iota. I watched all I could, and listened all I could on the internet, and did all I could to keep going. They were 17 years of heartache -- much of it self-inflicted by the team I loved so much. So many coaches. So many sanctions. So many Saturdays angry and hurt. So few Saturdays where I left the living room after a game feeling truly happy about the state of things.

Enter Nick Saban. I remember standing in Tuscaloosa, outside of Bryant-Denny Stadium one day in the summer after he was hired. It was hard not to be awed looking up at the statues of Coaches Wallace Wade, Frank Thomas, Paul Bryant and Gene Stallings; the men who had secured our 12 prior national titles for us. It was impossible not to notice the empty alcove standing next to Coach Stallings' statue -- the one reserved for the next man to bring us back to the top. Would it be Coach Saban? I just had to smile at the groundskeeper nearby (was he a prophet?) my dad and I when he said they expected to fill that spot up in the next 3-4 years. Could it be?

Enter Year Three...

...the team finally became a team. The team finally became champions. I watched every game this year, knowing that should we win them all, this year's game would be played a scant 30 minutes away from my house. Nothing would keep me away should we go. As the weeks ticked by, and the wins kept coming, and the tension mounted, the hope began to soar. Get to the SEC Championship. Done. Win the SEC Championship. Done. Punch your ticket to your first title game in over a decade. Done. At last.

What started out as an attempt to describe my feelings on January 7, 2010 as I stood (not sat, I never sat) in the bleachers at the Rose Bowl will not end that way. As I've sat here sifting through the thoughts in my head, I've come to realize that words simply won't do. I'll just have to go on knowing what I feel in my heart, without being able to describe that to others, and I guess that's okay. The closest I will be able to come is this:

It was the single, greatest night of my entire life.

I've experienced a lot of joy in my life. I'm married and have a wonderful wife. Three children who I adore (and want to kill at the same time). Fantastic parents. An extended family that I love. A relationship with Jesus Christ that dictates almost every facet of my life, to the best of my abilities. There have been numerous moments in my life that I will always cherish and remember among the greatest moments in my entire life. Nothing will ever diminish them, and I don't intend to make it sound as though something did. But you have to understand, when something is in your blood, it doesn't supplant something else -- it just is who you are. And over the years I've come to understand that.

I will say that my life goes in this order: God, Family and Football. But if I were anything less than honest about this, I just couldn't live with myself. And for a four hour period of time last Thursday night, that order was flipped on its head. I'm not sure anything outside of God and Family will ever top it.

Roll Tide.