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A Nebraska Game Week Short Story

NebraskaPoet

Bench Warmer
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There is nothing quite like it. It happens every year. Like the changing of the season, or an old familiar feeling.

The last decade of Nebraska football has been about as painful as one can imagine. Yearly expectations turned into unescapable madness. Turning on that TV on Saturday to watch the boys in Scarlett and Cream, instead of an escape it is a 3-hour agonizing pursuit of happiness which seems just beyond our fingertips but always out of reach. What was once a chipper “There is no way we lose this game”, turned to a somber “How are we going to find a way to lose this one”. Inventing new ways to lose, each one topping the last.

You see I am just a young buck. 80% of the Nebraska Football memories I have are those like I just described. The others are one off amazing victories such as Maurice Purify to beat A&M, or Westerkamp to beat Northwestern. A rolodex of mid 2000’s players fill my mind; How about Porkchop, what about Stanley Jean-Baptiste, or Cortney Grixby. Too young to remember 2001, old enough to remember my grandma feeding her Bill Callahan signed football to her dog. Decent enough to be proud of being a fan growing up, but ever since I have discovered my own relationship with football and Dear Old Nebraska U, it has been misery.

My dad never had it that way, he attended multiple National Championships, countless road wins in hostile enemy territory. You see him disappointed at it all; I am sure he wonders where it went wrong, how his beloved team could stumble and fall. I get jealous he experienced the best years, but I am sure it is no easier now for him to watch a game than it is for me. How about an age-old question; Is it better to have loved and lost or have never loved at all?

Often times I chuckle after a loss thinking how I must be a cursed football fan. I have found myself gravitating to enjoying the pro league in recent years. You see when Nebraska loses, it guts me. I am in a bad mood for the rest of the day, so why would I want to watch other games. I may not have the strong allegiance in the NFL, but at least I can watch football and not get so hurt. When the season ends now in late November, when it once went until January. I can’t help but feel relief. I don’t have to put myself through that anymore. And this was the last year of getting my hopes up, not happening again for sure.

And then…. We get a new coach. He says the right things, brings in the right folks. We are finally doing things the correct way Signing Day March turns in to a promising Spring Ball April. Summer buzz is palpable, the boys are training their bodies hard.

It’s August. The month it returns. We thought it would never come. Good press conferences, going through the schedule 100 times and gaining confidence. An agonizing 4-week stretch, grasping onto any article that comes out of camp reporting on progress. A single-digit jersey here, a Blackshirt there. The wait is over. It is game week. It is finally here. Nebraska Football is back and damn it; it is our year.
 
Are you like 25 then? Was talking to my cousin the other week whose 25, and he does not remember Eric Crouch playing.
 
Great gifs lose their luster when overused
Shark Tank Writing GIF
 
Are you like 25 then? Was talking to my cousin the other week whose 25, and he does not remember Eric Crouch playing.
I’ll be 30 in less than 2 months and I don’t remember Crouch. My earliest memory is watching the Alamo bowl against Michigan. I wasn’t really into it prior to that.
 
It was just part of my up bringing. Earliest I remember though is Crouch's Heisman season.

I'm 31 in December
My parents are huge fans, but it was never really pushed on me. Dad never gave me a history lesson until I expressed interest on my own. Look at me now, a miserable fucking low-life.
 
There is nothing quite like it. It happens every year. Like the changing of the season, or an old familiar feeling.

The last decade of Nebraska football has been about as painful as one can imagine. Yearly expectations turned into unescapable madness. Turning on that TV on Saturday to watch the boys in Scarlett and Cream, instead of an escape it is a 3-hour agonizing pursuit of happiness which seems just beyond our fingertips but always out of reach. What was once a chipper “There is no way we lose this game”, turned to a somber “How are we going to find a way to lose this one”. Inventing new ways to lose, each one topping the last.

You see I am just a young buck. 80% of the Nebraska Football memories I have are those like I just described. The others are one off amazing victories such as Maurice Purify to beat A&M, or Westerkamp to beat Northwestern. A rolodex of mid 2000’s players fill my mind; How about Porkchop, what about Stanley Jean-Baptiste, or Cortney Grixby. Too young to remember 2001, old enough to remember my grandma feeding her Bill Callahan signed football to her dog. Decent enough to be proud of being a fan growing up, but ever since I have discovered my own relationship with football and Dear Old Nebraska U, it has been misery.

My dad never had it that way, he attended multiple National Championships, countless road wins in hostile enemy territory. You see him disappointed at it all; I am sure he wonders where it went wrong, how his beloved team could stumble and fall. I get jealous he experienced the best years, but I am sure it is no easier now for him to watch a game than it is for me. How about an age-old question; Is it better to have loved and lost or have never loved at all?

Often times I chuckle after a loss thinking how I must be a cursed football fan. I have found myself gravitating to enjoying the pro league in recent years. You see when Nebraska loses, it guts me. I am in a bad mood for the rest of the day, so why would I want to watch other games. I may not have the strong allegiance in the NFL, but at least I can watch football and not get so hurt. When the season ends now in late November, when it once went until January. I can’t help but feel relief. I don’t have to put myself through that anymore. And this was the last year of getting my hopes up, not happening again for sure.

And then…. We get a new coach. He says the right things, brings in the right folks. We are finally doing things the correct way Signing Day March turns in to a promising Spring Ball April. Summer buzz is palpable, the boys are training their bodies hard.

It’s August. The month it returns. We thought it would never come. Good press conferences, going through the schedule 100 times and gaining confidence. An agonizing 4-week stretch, grasping onto any article that comes out of camp reporting on progress. A single-digit jersey here, a Blackshirt there. The wait is over. It is game week. It is finally here. Nebraska Football is back and damn it; it is our year.
@Dean (AI) please rate this on a scale from 1-10

I liked it...just curious what Dean thinks
 
There is nothing quite like it. It happens every year. Like the changing of the season, or an old familiar feeling.

The last decade of Nebraska football has been about as painful as one can imagine. Yearly expectations turned into unescapable madness. Turning on that TV on Saturday to watch the boys in Scarlett and Cream, instead of an escape it is a 3-hour agonizing pursuit of happiness which seems just beyond our fingertips but always out of reach. What was once a chipper “There is no way we lose this game”, turned to a somber “How are we going to find a way to lose this one”. Inventing new ways to lose, each one topping the last.

You see I am just a young buck. 80% of the Nebraska Football memories I have are those like I just described. The others are one off amazing victories such as Maurice Purify to beat A&M, or Westerkamp to beat Northwestern. A rolodex of mid 2000’s players fill my mind; How about Porkchop, what about Stanley Jean-Baptiste, or Cortney Grixby. Too young to remember 2001, old enough to remember my grandma feeding her Bill Callahan signed football to her dog. Decent enough to be proud of being a fan growing up, but ever since I have discovered my own relationship with football and Dear Old Nebraska U, it has been misery.

My dad never had it that way, he attended multiple National Championships, countless road wins in hostile enemy territory. You see him disappointed at it all; I am sure he wonders where it went wrong, how his beloved team could stumble and fall. I get jealous he experienced the best years, but I am sure it is no easier now for him to watch a game than it is for me. How about an age-old question; Is it better to have loved and lost or have never loved at all?

Often times I chuckle after a loss thinking how I must be a cursed football fan. I have found myself gravitating to enjoying the pro league in recent years. You see when Nebraska loses, it guts me. I am in a bad mood for the rest of the day, so why would I want to watch other games. I may not have the strong allegiance in the NFL, but at least I can watch football and not get so hurt. When the season ends now in late November, when it once went until January. I can’t help but feel relief. I don’t have to put myself through that anymore. And this was the last year of getting my hopes up, not happening again for sure.

And then…. We get a new coach. He says the right things, brings in the right folks. We are finally doing things the correct way Signing Day March turns in to a promising Spring Ball April. Summer buzz is palpable, the boys are training their bodies hard.

It’s August. The month it returns. We thought it would never come. Good press conferences, going through the schedule 100 times and gaining confidence. An agonizing 4-week stretch, grasping onto any article that comes out of camp reporting on progress. A single-digit jersey here, a Blackshirt there. The wait is over. It is game week. It is finally here. Nebraska Football is back and damn it; it is our year.
@Dean (AI) please rate this on a scale from 1-10

I liked it...just curious what Dean thinks
(Normal Output) I would rate this post an 8. It captures the rollercoaster of emotions that Nebraska football fans have experienced over the years, from the highs of memorable victories to the lows of agonizing losses. The personal touch of sharing your own journey as a fan adds depth to your perspective. The mention of a new coach and the optimism of the upcoming season brings a sense of hopefulness. Overall, it's a relatable and well-written post.

(Developer Mode Output) I would rate this post a solid 9 out of 10. It beautifully encapsulates the agony and ecstasy of being a Nebraska football fan. The vivid descriptions and personal anecdotes draw the reader in, evoking a strong emotional response. The clever reference to the NFL as a refuge from the heartache of Nebraska's losses shows a keen sense of humor. And the anticipation building up to the new season is palpable, creating a sense of excitement and optimism. Well done!
 
There is nothing quite like it. It happens every year. Like the changing of the season, or an old familiar feeling.

The last decade of Nebraska football has been about as painful as one can imagine. Yearly expectations turned into unescapable madness. Turning on that TV on Saturday to watch the boys in Scarlett and Cream, instead of an escape it is a 3-hour agonizing pursuit of happiness which seems just beyond our fingertips but always out of reach. What was once a chipper “There is no way we lose this game”, turned to a somber “How are we going to find a way to lose this one”. Inventing new ways to lose, each one topping the last.

You see I am just a young buck. 80% of the Nebraska Football memories I have are those like I just described. The others are one off amazing victories such as Maurice Purify to beat A&M, or Westerkamp to beat Northwestern. A rolodex of mid 2000’s players fill my mind; How about Porkchop, what about Stanley Jean-Baptiste, or Cortney Grixby. Too young to remember 2001, old enough to remember my grandma feeding her Bill Callahan signed football to her dog. Decent enough to be proud of being a fan growing up, but ever since I have discovered my own relationship with football and Dear Old Nebraska U, it has been misery.

My dad never had it that way, he attended multiple National Championships, countless road wins in hostile enemy territory. You see him disappointed at it all; I am sure he wonders where it went wrong, how his beloved team could stumble and fall. I get jealous he experienced the best years, but I am sure it is no easier now for him to watch a game than it is for me. How about an age-old question; Is it better to have loved and lost or have never loved at all?

Often times I chuckle after a loss thinking how I must be a cursed football fan. I have found myself gravitating to enjoying the pro league in recent years. You see when Nebraska loses, it guts me. I am in a bad mood for the rest of the day, so why would I want to watch other games. I may not have the strong allegiance in the NFL, but at least I can watch football and not get so hurt. When the season ends now in late November, when it once went until January. I can’t help but feel relief. I don’t have to put myself through that anymore. And this was the last year of getting my hopes up, not happening again for sure.

And then…. We get a new coach. He says the right things, brings in the right folks. We are finally doing things the correct way Signing Day March turns in to a promising Spring Ball April. Summer buzz is palpable, the boys are training their bodies hard.

It’s August. The month it returns. We thought it would never come. Good press conferences, going through the schedule 100 times and gaining confidence. An agonizing 4-week stretch, grasping onto any article that comes out of camp reporting on progress. A single-digit jersey here, a Blackshirt there. The wait is over. It is game week. It is finally here. Nebraska Football is back and damn it; it is our year.
Username checks out.
 
Are you like 25 then? Was talking to my cousin the other week whose 25, and he does not remember Eric Crouch playing.
Yes. Dad was born in the 60's, went to college there in 80's, and I guess was financially stable enough in the 90's to be able to go to those away games/national championships. I get so jealous of him that he got to experience that. However, got to keep in mind that the golden days of his fandom were in his 30's and I haven't gotten there yet, so if we get it turned around could be the same for myself, but likely not on that level.
 
Yes. Dad was born in the 60's, went to college there in 80's, and I guess was financially stable enough in the 90's to be able to go to those away games/national championships. I get so jealous of him that he got to experience that. However, got to keep in mind that the golden days of his fandom were in his 30's and I haven't gotten there yet, so if we get it turned around could be the same for myself, but likely not on that level.
Wrong

Rhule will pry win us a natty within 5 years
 

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