Confessions of a Die-Hard Nebraska Cornhusker: There’s No Place Like Home (Even When We Lose)
Greetings from the heart of the Corn Belt, where the corn is high, the stakes are higher, and football runs through our veins thicker than the Platte River in springtime. As someone born and bred in the great state of Nebraska, I have carried the torch (and the occasional pitchfork) for Nebraska college football. The Nebraska Cornhuskers, or Huskers for short, are not just a team; they're a way of life.
Growing up in Nebraska, there were only a few sacred rules in my household:
Sunday church is mandatory.
Sweet corn is a main dish, not a side.
You do NOT schedule ANYTHING on Huskers game day.
I grew up with stories of the golden days, of Tom Osborne’s epic reign, of national championships won in '70, '71, '94, '95, and '97, and of the sea of red that floods the Memorial Stadium every home game. In fact, my parents love to recall the tale of how my first word was not "mom" or "dad", but "Huskers". (Alright, it might have been "corn", but that’s neither here nor there.)
But let's face the elephant in the room – or perhaps more accurately, the deflated football in the room. It’s been a, well, how do I put it? A 'character-building' several years for us die-hard fans. The word ‘rebuilding’ has been tossed around so many times, I’m half expecting to see the team show up with hammers and nail guns.
Oh, and those one-score losses? Don’t even get me started. I swear I’ve developed heart palpitations from the sheer number of gut-wrenching finishes. If I had a kernel of corn for every time the Huskers lost by just one score, I could probably feed all of Lincoln! It's almost like we're addicted to the drama, choosing to waltz on the edge of victory, only to dramatically plunge into the abyss of defeat.
But, as with any epic tale, the hero must go through trials and tribulations. Frodo had to take the ring to Mordor, Luke Skywalker had to face Darth Vader, and we... well, we have to face the bizarre play calls and ill-timed turnovers. But where would the glory be if it were all smooth sailing? Or smooth tackling, as the case may be.
This year, however, things feel a tad bit different. There's a shimmer of hope, a glint of potential.
They say change is good, and Lord knows we’ve been clamoring for it. Our new coaches seem to have a vision - one that doesn’t involve snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. I’ve caught myself daydreaming about big wins, triumphant marches down the field, and hoisting trophies. And then I snap back to reality and remember to keep my expectations in check. (Like, just maybe a win with a two-score lead? That’d be great.)
So, why, despite the mishaps, the heartbreaks, and the numerous, NUMEROUS questionable plays, do I remain a fervent fan?
Firstly, because it's in my DNA. The Nebraska spirit is resilient, fierce, and unwavering. Secondly, because, in the end, being a fan isn't just about the scores. It's about the community, the camaraderie, and the pure, unadulterated passion for the game. And finally, because if there’s one thing Nebraskans are good at (other than growing corn), it's believing. Believing in better days, in the strength of our team, and in the magic of a football soaring through the crisp, fall air.
As we embark on this new season, I have but one plea to our beloved Huskers: Let’s bring the glory back home, where it belongs. And maybe, just maybe, spare our hearts those agonizing one-score losses.
In the meantime, I’ll be right here, decked out in red, cheering louder than ever. Because, in the end, there truly is no place like Nebraska. GBR! (That's "Go Big Red" for the uninitiated.)
