Yesterday Royannn and I had the chance to become a part of another ones life. I have been an avid Ole Miss fan since I can remember. My dad trained us early to cheer for the boys in the red and blue. I can remember laying on the hood of my dad's truck after he would get home from work on Saturday afternoons in the fall and listening to them on the radio. It was our spot. It was tradition. The warmth of truck hood kept us warm most of the game even though sometimes it got really cold in the later November games. Money was something we didn't have a lot of growing up, so the radio was as close as I got to the rebels. When I got old enough though my dad took me to my first game. It was the Ole Miss/Arkansas game in 1983. It was played in Jackson, Ms. I remember walking to the stadium and hearing the shouts of hog fans. If you are a fan of the SEC then you know "Pig Souieee" and how many time hog fans cheer it before, after, and during a game. Walking out of the tunnel into the stadium was unreal to a seven year old that hadn't left the country community of Horseshoe except to go to school or a one in a while shopping trip to Greenwood. The only thing I had ever seen even close to that big with that many seats for fans was the Greenwood Civic Center. This monstrosity was a thousand times bigger than that to a seven year old. I remember thinking that stadium was the most awesome site I had ever seen. It was so big I gripped on to my Dad's hand like a overtightened pair of vice grips. I saw the players on the field, players that had always just been a numbers and names through the radio. I knew all of the names and numbers. Now with a game day program I could put a face with the names and number I knew so well. I remember sitting in the stands and let me say "high in the stands" wanting to go down and meet just a few of the players. I would have given anything just for an autograph or a wave from my favorite players. Ole Miss won that night 13-10 and solidified my commitment to the Rebels. I remember my dad hanging around after the game to hear "From Dixie With Love" which I have made a tradition of my own also. Royann and I will not leave until that song is finished after the game. She will tell you please don't talk to Rocky when that song is being played. He won't hear you anyway. I am living in a moment. I am seven again in Jackson, Ms. with my dad. I am there with him in Memorial Stadium. I am there watching a single tear as it rolls down his cheek. I am there gripping his hand. I am there wondering why my dad is emotional in a way that I had never seen. Then I return to the present and understand those moments while I listen. I find a tear going down my own cheek and the hair standing up on the back of my neck and thinking of that first game.
I had the opportunity to be part of a young man's first major moment of meeting the Rebels face to face yesterday. It was everything I remember it being at seven and more. Tristan Wiggins became a life long Rebel yesterday. He is young man much like me at seven, had never seen the Rebels live, but knew more about the Rebels than probably half of the fans at the game. Tristan is unlucky though that he doesn't have a Rebel father to train him in the way of the Rebels or take him to games like I did. His knowledge comes from the radio and games on T.V. just like me at seven. His life long dream he said was to see them play live. He got more than ballgame though. I took him to the walk of champions, band in the grove, and even to meet the players after the game. Royann and I have been lucky enough to befriend a lot of the players and coaches on the team and when they found out it was Tristan's first game and how big of a fan he was, Tristan had them wrapped around his finger. Eight-five high fives and autographs later Tristan was living in one of the major moments in life. What Royann and I and the Ole Miss players didn't understand at the time is we weren't giving something like a ticket or autograph, but Tristan was giving back to us. We were part of one of Tristan's moments. A moment that will live and can he can tell detail for detail as he gets older to all that will listen.
Here are some pictures to help remember Tristan's moments.
Tristan walking into the game.
Tristan with Jerrell Powe
Tristan with Jevan Snead
Tristan I hope to share my seats with you many times in the near future and make more memories with you my new Rebel buddy.
2 comments:
What a sweet post!
Awesome! Your writing reminded me of Willie Morris! Such a sweet, sentimental post and I could see, hear, and picture everything you were describing. Seriously........ you have some talent!
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