(*this may get a little long, so bear with me*)
I wasn't born or even mostly raised in the south like the vast majority of y'all. I'm originally from a tiny little town of not a whole lot of people called Atlanta, MI. My grandpa lived there too, and he was a VERY proud alumnus of the University of Michigan. I can clearly and distinctly remember Saturdays in the fall, loading up in Grandpa's old truck early in the morning and heading south to "The House that Bo Built" to watch the Maize and Blue (and other days spent at the corner of Michigan and Trumbull at Tiger Stadium; and winter days spent climbing "The Stairway to Heaven" at Joe Louis Arena for Red Wings games). I wouldn't trade a single one of those memories for anything in this world.
Fast-forward a bit to 1992. My family and I moved to Euharlee, Georgia the beginning of my ninth grade year. Mom and Dad weren't real big into sports at that point (they got there later but that's another story......they're not Tennessee fans like I am) so I just kinda coasted along not really getting to experience sports. There was this little general store in Euharlee, and the tall older lady behind the register with the bouffant hairdo and accent as thick as cold oatmeal ALWAYS had this orange "T" pin on her blouse (when she wasn't wearing orange, which wasn't often) that I asked her about one day (my parents became good friends with her to the point that she asked us kids to call her Grandma Pat).
Grandma Pat explained to 13 year old me that that T she wore was to show support for the college she had proudly graduated from many years prior after she left her childhood home of Clarksville, Tennessee. She called it "the only school in the southeast that actually matters", which young me found quite hilarious.
I guess she knew I needed sports back in my life, so unbeknownst to me she started talking to my folks about taking me to a game. They were a bit hesitant, but finally relented.
On September 3rd, 1994 my life changed forever. A 15-year old DeusExMachina showed up in Knoxville not knowing what to expect, and promptly had his world rocked by a screaming, bellowing sea of orange and white. Neyland Stadium felt like the biggest place I would ever go, and it was definitely the loudest place I had ever been to. The fellas on the field put up one hell of a fight that day (in my mind, your mileage may vary) before ultimately falling to UCLA (Grandma Pat took me back to Neyland the next year for the Alabama game after MUCH begging by me to my parents, and that game turned out much differently and MUCH louder); but the seed had sprouted and my wardrobe took on a whole lot more orange as time went on and things got outgrown.
I'll always have a soft spot for the University of Michigan, that'll never change. However, thanks to one kind Tennessean who took a young dumb 15 year old under her wings, my heart beats Rocky Top, my blood type is Pantone 151, and I can't and won't shut that off ever. Go Big Orange.
