I want a #69 "Terrypedigo" jersey. Then I could charge the field after we beat Western Kentucky (barefoot as to truly be one with Shields Watkins Field and bc I wouldn't wear any shoes to the game as to fully be in character.) I'd then go lay face down at the 50 yard line, smack in the middle of the Power T. I'd whisper to the blades of grass, let them know how beautiful they look soaking up every drop of that orange paint. Butch would then personally advise me to an AA meeting. I would mistake his advice for a personal offering of a scholarship. In the ensuing celebration I would meet Rod Wilks over the middle. He'd citizen's arrest me because he has since moved on from playing petty games with an odd shaped ball, to becoming the vigilante hero this world truly needs...