It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Every year, the season opener is one of my favorite games of the season, no matter the opponent. Not so much the actual game, but the anticipation leading up to it. It's that beautiful time where nothing has been ruined yet. No Tanner Magnum Hail Marys have fallen out of the sky to crush all your dreams. Not yet anyway.

Sure, we all like to be realistic.

"Ah, they're going to win 7 games."

The last 15 years have taught us to temper expectations, but deep down we all like to think that this may be the year where Nebraska finally breaks through, stuns the Ohio State Buckeyes or the Michigan Harbaughs in the B1G title and sneaks into the playoffs. It's at that moment that Mike Riley will reach behind his neck, pull a zipper down over his head, step out of his costume and reveal himself to be the second coming of Tom Osborne. (TO isn't dead yet, but you get the point.) He then looks down and sees his shadow, meaning 40 more years of Husker football prosperity.

Sure, we all like to be realistic.

Night openers are even better. It gives us all day to tailgate, watch football and laugh at all the ranked teams who are being taken to the wire by Sunbelt or FCS teams. (I'm looking at you Tennessee).

That opening day is magical. The optimism on opening day makes you feel like it's 1995 all over again. For 10 months we've been waiting for the streets to overflow with red again. Although we might not admit it, we've missed the smell of sweaty people and Runza. Somewhere in the Haymarket an old car with a bicycle horn is making its rounds blaring "There is No Place Like Nebraska" and all your childhood memories come rushing back. (The old man driving that car probably DOES think it's 1995).

I was born in 1994, welcomed into the world with back to back National Championships. I'm too young to remember any of them. In fact, I don't really remember any of the games I went to as a young kid, but I do remember the pregames spent with my family. I remember sitting on my dad's shoulders so I could see the band marching into the stadium. I remember the watch parties at our home in Elkhorn and the chili my mom would make on Black Friday every other year when Nebraska went on the road to Colorado.  I remember getting excited every time Nebraska scored so my dad would hoist me onto his shoulders and spin me around until I wanted to puke. Him and I now do the same thing with my niece and nephew.

So that's why I love season openers so much. Even though the product on the field isn't as good anymore, the atmosphere always takes me back to the late 90s and the early 2000s. And just in case it turns out that it's not the 90s and it actually is 2016, well then you can enjoy watching Nebraska kick the crap out of a helpless Fresno St. team with your family. Pretend we're playing 'Bama instead. It makes it a lot more fun.

Bring your kids too.

15 years from now they probably won't remember much about the game, but they will remember the feel of marching down the street surrounded by red and a chorus of "GO BIG RED" chants. They'll remember the tunnel walk and watching their balloon rising up and joining the thousands of other little red dots in the sky. And decades from now they'll bring their kids too, because they remember how special it was to them.

Nowadays, there's a lot of people wanting to relive their childhood. They look for nostalgia in Crystal Pepsi and in the latest Ghostbusters movie. Most of the time, it's just not nearly as good as you remember. Nebraska game days are one of the rare exceptions.  They're just as magical as I remember.