I grew up in Omaha, Neb. It’s a city of about half a million people and a haven for few sports — namely college baseball and college football.
When I tell people Nebraska is my home, the first get-to-know-Caitlin question is typically, “So, you’re a Cornhusker fan, right?” After all, Nebraska is the home of Big Red Nation.
In a word, no.
My family, for a long time, actively disliked the Cornhuskers. See, we are not native Nebraskans but rather adopted the state. But growing up, I felt like this culture of “GO BIG RED” was forced down my throat each day. (And yes, the capitalization is necessary.)
When you are constantly told you should love a team and the sport, simply because it’s there, it gets really boring really fast.
It wasn’t until I moved away from Nebraska and lived in New Orleans for a time that I began to appreciate what a great sport football is. Living there, you can’t help but love the Saints.
There are a lot of things that New Orleans makes you love and one is the call of “Who dat!” on game day.
For all its faults, football is still a great sport, for more reasons than just watching Beyoncé shut down the Superdome.
These days, I wear No. 9 in black and gold and root against the Birds.
But some Saturdays, I say GBR, too.
Reach the columnist at firstname.lastname@example.org or follow her on Twitter @CaitlinRCruz