That first hit on the pipe
I don't remember the date. I don't remember the player. I don't remember the opponent, the stadium, or the circumstance. Hell, I don't even remember if it was a win or loss. As a matter of fact, I don't even recall how the play "played out". What I do remember is a lanky player in a white jersey and helmet (with a U on the side) running through the end zone and into a dark tunnel. It was almost as if he was saying "Yeah, this is done. I'm going home." Then, after a few moments he reappeared from the tunnel. He was posing, pointing, shooting imaginary guns, etc...it was amazing. I had never seen anything like it. It was as if he knew exactly how good he was and wasn't afraid to explain that fact in detail to anyone within his view.
Cocky? Yes. Arrogant? Maybe. Swagger? You better believe it.
I was hooked. Addicted. It was like crack and I couldn't get off the pipe. I was a Hurricane fan, scratch that, milf was a Hurricane. That one moment in time...that one moment in the career of a player caused me to become as passionate about a team as anyone could ever be. Before then I had claimed the Canes as MY team for a few reasons. It seemed everyone was an FSU fan and I wasn't the one to go along with everyone. I liked the colors. And one of the biggest influences in my life, Mrs. Calhoun, was a Hurricane fan. Her highschool had actually played some of their highschool football games in The Orange Bowl. How could I go against her? I couldn't. So I was a supporter, but it took that 1 play to make me feel passioinate about the team. Now Cane football is life or death with me.