My cousins’ cousin played for Illinois at this time. Initially a walk-on D-Lineman, he would earn a scholarship as well as significant playing time; Obes, Dad, and me had gotten tickets to see him.
Good location: 40-yard line, high enough to see the whole field, low enough to see the names on the jerseys. But, if you look at that picture above you’ll notice a whole lot of green and yellow in the background….
Yeah, we were in the middle of the Baylor section.
Now for those of you who don’t know, football in the state of Texas is something serious. It is not something to be fooled with. You don’t go around standing and jeering and carrying on in the middle of the opposing fan base. It don’t matter that your team is whooping up on a young Robert Griffin III and the Baylor Bears. It don’t matter that Nathan Scheelhouse took a naked bootleg for a 55-yard touchdown at the end of the game when Illinois was genuinely trying to run out the clock. You just don’t do that. These are all reasons NOT to do that.
But, I didn’t care.
I ain’t go in there looking for a fight. If I recall, we didn’t even know our seats were in the Baylor section. No. I wasn’t bout that life. No siree. Noooope. The two people I was with were, though. And, it’s not as if I went in with that mindset. But, I’m sure in the back of mind, my love of the game was telling my senses, “Look, if stuff goes down, we just gotta sit back. They’ll handle it I promise, we just gonna sit back.”
Boy, 15 year old me could have been flogged, and he would have said, “Well, at least we won.”