Honestly, why do we put ourselves
through all of this torture? Just in the past year, all of us have had to endure
the OT gut-wrencher at
I think if we ever track down Bin
Laden way over there in
And that's what makes you a Cyclone fan. You don't give up when a little turmoil tips the scales. You have to learn to be a Cyclone. It's an experience in and of itself. And goodness knows it isn't easy.
For me it started at the earliest of ages. Growing up I was faced with what would become a life-altering decision. Will I be a Cyclone or Hawkeye?
Little Brent Blum was actually
born in the wretched place known as
And so the epic battle started from the day I entered this world. Herkey or Cy? At times it was pretty ruthless. I was forced at the age of two to wear a Hawkeye uniform. Even worse it was a Chuck Long jersey.
But something happened when I was
a toddler. Good prevailed over evil. Why that is, I'm not real sure. My dad
would like to think he had something to do with it. After all, he lugged me and
my two bros up to Jack Trice even in the worst of times. For whatever reason, I
found myself cheering for Blaise Bryant over Ronnie Harmon. I figured out early
on that it was too easy to be an
Being a Cyclone was and is an exercise in courage. Pure and simple. I liked to think it toughened me up for the real world. Plus it was so thrilling to boo the heck out of Acie Earl. He was the first of a long list of my least favorite Hawks.
But in all actually the tumultuous parts of being a Cyclone make the high points that much greater.
Do you remember where you were when JaMaine Billups streaked down the sideline against Pitt? How great of a feeling was that. Just thinking about Pete Taylor's call gives me goosebumps: "Here's the punt..it spirals out, now kind of wobbles out, Billups makes the catch 30 yard line..35…up to the 40…midfield…he's down the sideline…He MIGHT GO…TOUCHDOWN JAMAINE BILLUPS!! HOW ABOUT THAT?!!!!!
That is one of many memories that give me chills to this day.
How about Klay Edwards' jump hook
I haven't graced this earth for that long, but those moments were elation defined. Very few things can rival the joy of a Cyclone success. Jacy Holloway's unexpected three against KU in the last Big 8 tourney was more enjoyable for me than my first slow dance with the good-looking girl in sixth grade. I ran around the living room quicker than a J.J. Moses punt return, pumpin' my fists like Johnny Orr after Jacy hit that dagger. That's what keeps us coming back. (And also why some call me abnormal.)
The many disappointments like the
Being a student up here only
reinforces my connection to the Cardinal and Gold. Seeing the athletes around
campus and going to class makes me really appreciate their athletic efforts. In
my second ever class at
Every day, I see something up here that makes me thankful that I am a Cyclone even more. I went to Dairy Queen last month and saw Jason Scales working the Blizzard machine for some extra spending money. Rahshon Clark studied next to me in the library. I sat next to former Cyclone forward Marcus Jefferson on the bus on Monday. These kids are just like the rest of us, only a bit more talented.
We are all in the same boat. We are all Cyclones trying to steer past the multitude of ice-bergs to find the Promised Land. And once we do, imagine the amount of tailgating and celebration that will ensue.
Why do we choose to be Cyclones? Who knows? But one thing is certain; I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.
Now back to that finals thing.