40

Today I turn 40. 

I have been pretty vocal with people that this is not a happy occasion. I have no idea why, but I have a mental glitch that makes 40 seems very old. I have said that it feels like I am heading down the back side of the mountain of life. You can't even pretend to be in touch and cool when you are 40.  It has always been that way in my mind. 40 equals old. 

It has been worse for me lately. I really was down about turning 40. Sure, there are all of the usually qualifiers. "It's better than the alternative." "I've got my health, so that's great." And of course my older friends have chirped in with the, "You are young compared to me so shut up." I didn't say they were kind friends. 

I think part of my problem is that there are certain milestones that naturally lead to reflection. New Year's Day. Class reunions. Birthdays and anniversaries that end in 5 or 0. Frankly, I haven't liked what this reflection has shown. I am 40. What have I done? I don't have a career to speak of. I stay home with my kids. I haven't built anything - either physically or economically. It can be kind of disheartening. So 40 hasn't been much of a super happy fun thought. 

This past week the whole family was off. The kids had spring break, Heather was on vacation, and I was ... Um ... the usual. We decided to go to Orlando for the break. We had not been back since we moved to South Carolina in June. The original plan was to have a big 40th birthday bash one night. But living seven hours away makes it difficult to handle logistics. So instead we decided to see as many people as we could and do a bunch of stuff we had missed since we moved. 

So we went to a bunch of restaurants we used to frequent. We hit 4 Rivers Smokehouse and Flippers Pizza and Tijuana Flats. We went to Summit Church for Palm Sunday. We spent a day at Downtown Disney. We even got to try The Coop - the new restaurant by the 4 Rivers crew. All of that was awesome to experience. 

But what really made the week memorable was the time we got to spend with our friends. We didn't get to see everyone we wanted to see, but we did get to spend quality time with a bunch of people. By the time we wrapped up our roster of visits on Friday night, something had begun to dawn on me. I wake up as a very blessed 40 year old man. 

I like to poke fun at how often people use #blessed on their twitter and Facebook posts. But it really is the truest word I feel right now. I am blessed beyond belief. 

- I have a brilliant, beautiful, amazing wife who loves and supports me. She is pursuing her dream, and providing financially for our family through that. She is an example and model for her fellow residents - as well as medical students following in her path. She pushes me to be better and trusts me. 

- I have three incredible, gorgeous children. They are funny and talented and wonderful. I have the unbelievable honor of not only being their dad, but also spending every day with them. Yes, there are days where that honor feels more like a cruel punishment. And there are days I wish there were still bands of wandering gypsies I could sell them to. But, all in all, I cannot believe how lucky I am to have the time and relationship I have with them. 

- I have family who loves me beyond words. That is not limited to the family I was born with. It also includes my parents in-law, brothers and sisters in-law, cousins, uncles and aunts. As I grew into an adult, I was sad about how little I knew my extended family. But now I have such an abundance of extended family that it is impossible to keep up with all of them. My children have cousins who adore them and can't wait to see them - beautiful kids that will be lifelong friends. It is so wonderful. 

- I have friends, such sweet and faithful friends, that have been a part of my life for decades. It really struck me this week that I have multiple friendships of the intensity that some people will never find in their lives. These are people I would not hesitate to leave my children with. And they would trust me with their kids. I know that if something catastrophic happened and I called these people, they would be in a car driving to assist before I hung up. (Of course they would have to wade through about three levels of family who also responded.) They have kids that love my kids like brothers and sisters. As a dad, I cannot adequately express how much these kids and parents mean to me. 

- Most importantly I have a God who loves me to such a ridiculous, illogical, unfathomable level that he sent his Son to rescue me from a life of hopelessness, emptiness, and frustration. He loved me no matter how unlovely, hateful, irresponsible, lazy, and unfaithful I was. I find it quite appropriate that my 40th birthday falls on Easter this year. I get to celebrate my special day on the most special day. I don't have to fear getting older because of what happened on Easter. I don't ever have to feel alone or unloved because of Easter. And I can realize just how silly it is to be down about turning 40 because of Easter. 

So happy birthday to me. I truly believe I am the most blessed man around. Thank you all for the gift you have given me by being a part of my life. 

A Cry in the Night

We are all there from time to time. We may try to deny that fact. It may be because we see it as a weakness or a lack of faith. Maybe we believe we need more vitamins or sunlight or a vacation. So we do our best to ignore it. We stuff it down deep and keep on playing a role that we think the world wants us to play. We go into our jobs and nod at our coworkers. At church we act super holy and smile, or super penitent and solemn.  Modern social media presents us with another opportunity to put on an act.  We either hide our true feelings beneath a flurry of meaningless status updates and Buzzfeed links or we flood our friends with a neverending deluge of griping and moaning.  

I'm referring to the blues, depression, feeling down.  It seems that there are cycles that the average person goes through, happiness and sadness.  But this feeling I'm talking about is more than that.  It is that soul-crushing emptiness and despair that doesn't get fixed with chocolate or a collection of cute animal pictures.  I would wager everyone knows what that feels like.  You can be super religious or not even believe in God.  There are times when something seems to go wrong in our brains and we just take up residence in the darker places.  

We have seen this throughout history.  The prophet Elijah was so depressed at one point (when most people thought he should have been the happiest) that he wanted to die.  Israel's king Saul would go into deep funks.  The Apostle Paul certainly seemed to battle gloominess.  Abraham Lincoln supposedly suffered from two major depressive breakdowns.  In short, it isn't uncommon.  In Pilgrim's Progress, John Bunyan had his characters traverse the Slough of Despond (Despair).  It was pictured as a virtually impassible dark, wet, marshy area.  What a wonderful picture of despair! (And another argument for why books rock.)  You literally get bogged down and can't break loose.

To me, that bog has a vortex at the bottom that sucks me further into the darkness.  It becomes harder to escape and easier to believe the voices that echo in the gloom.  Oh yes, the voices.  How could I forget those?  They are the ones that we are able to block out most of the time with television and music and iPhone apps.  But they come out with a vengeance in the dark.  They are hateful and destructive.  They remind us of our failures and minimize our successes.  They rip and shred and bruise.  It seems so wrong that something so hateful could exist in our own heads.  (Hateful self-talk should be the biggest argument against the theory that humankind does anything possible to survive.)  These accusing tones live deep in the bog and feed on darkness.  And they become louder and louder.

To anyone who can honestly say that they have never battled depression, first say a silent prayer of thanks.  You are a fortunate soul.  Next, know that there things you can do to help those who are struggling.  Don't judge them.  It isn't as if they went looking for this.  Second, don't try to give them advice on how to shake it.  Trust me, they have thought of everything you could offer.  They already are beating themselves up for struggling.  They already are wondering why thinking happy thoughts, listening to uplifting music, and praying isn't curing the problem.  They already are convinced they are doing something horribly wrong.  So your suggestions, no matter how well intentioned they are, will come across as judgment.  Third, try to understand that this is not just being in a bad mood or being down.  It is something that the person cannot shake, no matter how hard they try.

Picture it this way.  Imagine you fall into a deep well.  It is dark and gloomy inside - darker than you can believe.  The further you slip down into the well, the darker it gets.  How can the darkness get darker?  Yet it does.  It is completely black.  The darkness actually feels like it has weight, crushing you.  The voices get louder and the way out seems further and further away.  Hardly a pretty picture.  How can one climb out when they cannot see where they are going?  In that much darkness, climbing out and climbing deeper seem the same.

The worst part about depression, despair, the blues is the lack of hope.  Hope is such an unbelievably powerful concept.  I don't think we actually think about just how strong hope is.  One of the themes of The Hunger Games trilogy is the value of hope.  There are some great discussions with President Snow (the evil despot) about hope in regards to Katniss Everdeen (the reluctant hero).  He talks at first about how hope is valuable, even to a dastardly villain.  "Hope is the only thing stronger than fear."  He recognizes that his subjugated people need hope or they will lose the will to live.  The threat of death would be meaningless to a person who has no life worth living.  "A spark is fine, as long as it is contained."  It is almost how adding a little salt to a chocolate dish enhances the flavor.  A little hope makes the fear more real.  However, he recognizes that the hope he offered is getting out of control by the second book/film.  Instead of being a spark, she has become a beacon.  "Fear does not work as long as there is hope."

This is where I believe our role lies when helping a person in these sloughs.  We are to offer them hope.  Going back to that dark well I was describing earlier.  Imagine if you were to fire a flaming Hawkeye-style arrow into the wall of that pit.  What happens?  Does it provide a way out?  Nope.  Does it fix the problem?  Not at all.  Does it remove all the darkness?  Negatory, good buddy.  But it offers light.  It offers hope.  It points the way up and out.  It gives a little brightness to their world.  The truth it, you never know just how important your words can be to someone.  You don't know what they are going through, what they are struggling with.  It could be that your words are just what they needed to hear.

The other day, I was in the middle of one of these painful patches.  I struggle from time to time with depression.  I am a melancholy personality type, so I drift in that direction anyway.  But I have been battling for a while.  For almost two years, I have been on an anti-depression/anti-anxiety pill.  It has made a world of difference.  But there are still breakthrough moments that defy even the best chemistry can offer.  Last Friday, I went on a field trip with Gabe's class to the local park.  We hiked through the woods and then did a scavenger hunt.  That was followed up by the Daddy/Daughter Dance the same night, and then coaching Gabe's soccer team on Saturday morning.  To a normal person, this would be a reasonable amount of activity.  But, for a person suffering with rheumatoid arthritis, it was the definition of Malcolm Gladwell's Tipping Point theory.  I had been battling with allergies and minor illnesses for a couple of weeks.  The Friday/Saturday combo pushed me over the edge into a full-fledged RA flareup.  RA is a weird thing.  It isn't strictly swollen joints.  It is your immune system trying to destroy your joints.  It does crazy awful things to your body.  Medication for it actually destroys your immune system to stop this destruction.  This leaves you vulnerable to other things - like infections, illnesses, etc.  Mix all of that up, and I was down for the count.  I was exhausted.  I was down.  Sunday, I slept in until 11:30am - over 12 hours.  To anyone who knows me, this is unheard of.  Monday, I woke up, dropped the kids off at school, came home and went back to bed until almost noon.  Yesterday the same thing happened.

Fatigue, pain, illness, flare-up.  I was in a bad state.  And last week I started getting very dark in my mind.  I was doing all the right things to control it.  I was fighting my hardest.  I wasn't letting thoughts take root.  I was fighting the voices.  But it felt like I was getting pulled under the waves and was helpless to escape.  Finally on Monday night, I was laying in bed and trying to sleep with the voices pounding in my head.  Heather was laying there, falling asleep.  I spoke up and told her just how dark things were getting.  I had told her about the struggle of the past week and a half, then about the pain I was wrestling.  She had been a very supportive wife and friend - doing all the things she should do in this situation.  But in that moment, I was crying (literally) for a rescue.  I told her how the voices were continually telling me I was worthless and pointless.  I was explaining how when I am at my best, I am out there with people and teaching and investing in young people.  The opportunities here are limited for that.  My latest Kaplan class had just ended (a correlation I had not recognized until just that moment).  So I was feeling alone and isolated and worthless.  That sends me into my default mode of pulling further and further away into my dark hole.

After listening to these things, she responded.  "David, you are the glue that holds this family together.  Without you, I don't even know how we would function.  The only reason I am able to do what I do is because I never worry about things getting taken care of because I know you are doing them.  Your kids love you to pieces.  I love you.  You are anything but useless."  It was as if she had selected the multi-flaming-arrow move from Hawkeye and launched them all into the wall of my pit.  The darkness exploded with light.  Those words were so incredible and important to hear.  If you have read this blog for a length of time, you know that I have shared my efforts to become a better man, a more reliable husband, a more tender and loving father.  To have my wife say those things to me in my deepest moment of need?  They demonstrated just how far I had come.  They didn't erase the last ten days.  They didn't fix everything.  But they offered me light and love, and so importantly hope.

The last couple of days, I have grabbed onto those words and used them to gain footholds out of my well.  I have used them as weapons to fight off the accusing tones in my head.  And I find myself slowly emerging from the darkness.  More and more, I am realizing just how important we are to each other.  The words we say, the actions we take.  We don't have to be doctors to heal.  Our pastor back in Orlando used to say, "We were not meant to live this life alone."  I am fully convinced that those words are true.  (Sadly, he forgot those words - something that still breaks my heart every time I think of him.)  We were not meant to live alone.  The seminal television show Lost had as its mantra, "Live together; die alone." (Although, some of the most heartbreaking deaths occurred when they were together.)  We never know when a person near us is on the verge of losing it.  We never know how our words may be just what someone needs to hear - or what someone WILL need to hear later.  There are things that people have said to me in my past that still serve as flaming arrows and anchors for me.  It could be Charles Wise saying, "You're a good man, David.  You're a good man." Or it could be Cary Smith tenderly commenting, "You are not an angry man.  I have seen angry men.  You are not angry.  You are a man who lashes out when he feels out of control.  But you are definitely not an angry man."  (That was the first time anyone had said that to me - countering an assessment that had been all too frequent in my life.)  Those words will last my life.  The ones my wife said the other day will go into that treasure chest.  They are words of life and hope.

The same time that I was dealing with all of this, a friend of mine, Adel, from my Apple days posted on his Facebook a story about his life.  He was in a dark place too and something that could be seen as completely random and minor helped to shine new light on his situation.  It really drove home the reminder that we need to be there for each other.  I appreciated his transparency.  And, truthfully, it is what led me to write this.  To anyone striving to be a writer, you know how hard it can be to write.  The negative self-talk rings loud when a writer sits down at his computer, squelching many a good effort.  So imagine writing about depression.  It is a minor miracle that this post ever got finished, and it is a testimony to how important I think it is.  I have often joked that I only hope my life can serve as a warning sign to others.  I truthfully do hope that my failures and weaknesses can help others escape or avoid those.  (Shoot, I would guess ninety percent of the arguments I have with Josiah is trying to keep him from repeating my mistakes and his insistence that he won't, as he does.)  Today, I doubly hope this is true.

For those of you struggling, let me offer you hope.  You are not alone.  You have great worth and value.  There are people all around you that love you and think the world of you.  For those of you not struggling, love those around you.  Don't give up an opportunity to speak words of encouragement to those people you love.  You may think they will tire of hearing you love them, respect them, need them.  But your words may be salvation to them.  And to all of us, take this as a challenge to embrace the chance to change someone's life.  It is so easy to slip into sarcasm and negativity and criticism.  We see that all the time on Facebook and Twitter and the Interwebs.  For once, put that aside and be genuine and truthful and love on someone around you.  Tell them how important they are.  Tell them how talented and beautiful they are.  Give them hope.  Richard DeVos owns a really crappy basketball team, in the Orlando Magic.  But he once said, "Few things in the world are more powerful than a positive push. A smile. A world of optimism and hope. A 'you can do it' when things are tough."  Those are true words.  Go spread some light in the dark.

15 Things A Relocated Floridian Appreciates About "The North"

I was thinking this morning that I really have enjoyed our relocation to Columbia, SC.  If you take out the facts that I hardly have any friends up here, that just about all our family lives a major drive away, that I'm stuck with coverage of USC sports instead of UCF, and that we all really miss our friends in Florida, things are awesome.  Living "up north" isn't so bad.  I've found many things that I actually prefer living in the northern reaches of our country.

[Ed. Note: We realize that South Carolina is not "up north" by any stretch of the imagination.  But, take into consideration that it is eight hours north of where the writer grew up.  Moving eight hours north of Columbia puts you in Cleveland.  Think about that.]

1. You can leave cold food from the grocery store or chocolate in your car for a few minutes to run another errand without worrying that you will come out to a pool of nastiness in your trunk.
2. You can make it all day without the ice in your cup of soda or tea melting.
3. Hot drinks are extra good because they warm you up when it is cold instead of adding to the already severe case of heat stroke you've developed in the middle of January.
4. You don't have to mow your grass for months when it is dead due to the many random freezes.  And it apparently comes back as grass - not weeds.
5. Speaking of grass, you can roll around in the grass without itching all over or worrying you will get a "grass cut" (similar to a paper cut, but with a grass blade).
6. No lizards. 
7. It SNOWS!  Everyone up here said that it "hardly ever snows" in Columbia.  Yes, but by definition, that means it DOES snow at some point.  Growing up in Florida, in NEVER ever snows in Florida.  And don't try to tell me that just because a couple of flakes fell in Pensacola or Tallahassee and were on your car windshield for six hours that it snowed.  Unless it covers everything, it isn't snow. We've already had it snow twice here - one "Florida" snow and one real one that stuck around for five days.
8. SNOW AGAIN!  People north of us hate snow because it never goes away.  But having it come a few times a year is pretty cool.  The fact that the South is completely unprepared to handle any level of snow also means that you get to have entire days off to play in the snow.  That rocks.
9. No Halloween Horror Nights commercials.  
10. No Morgan and Morgan: For the People commercials or billboards.
11. Elevation.  The land is not flat.  This is cool to me.  I never liked the fact that the highest point within fifty miles of me was a dump.
12. Teenagers answer me by saying, "Yes sir."  Every school I've taught at with Kaplan, that has been consistent.  Politeness is underrated in America.  (Could I have sounded more elderly there?)
13. Gas expenses are much lower.  One, the gas is cheaper.  Two, things aren't so far away that a thirty minute drive is a normal expectation.  Thirty minutes here gets us to the other side of the city.  An hour almost gets us to Charlotte.  It takes me five to ten minutes to get 90% of where I need to go.
14. History.  There are Civil War and Revolutionary War battlefields all over the state.  Sure, there are a lot of people that don't like the way the first one of those turned out.  But as a history buff, I like to experience areas that existed before Walt Disney built a theme park.
15. South Carolina has a cool logo.  I'm not talking about the university (although they also have a cool logo and great colors).  The state itself has the palmetto tree with half moon logo that is everywhere.  At first, I was confused.  I asked our realtor why South Carolina had a logo that looked like a Muslim symbol.  His snarky reply was, "It was designed by a Muslim."  Then he laughed because that was so ridiculous.  Or because I was so dumb that I even thought that in the first place.  Eventually, though, the logo grows on you.  It is everywhere - usually in blue and white.  And it looks really cool.  Florida doesn't have a cool logo.  What would Florida even use?  An orange? A sun? An aligator? A bag of cocaine?

Yes, there are many things I don't enjoy about South Carolina.  I hate mustard based BBQ sauces. The taxes on cars, restaurants, income. Racists.  And there are many things that seem identical to Florida - terrible drivers, massive potholes in the road, bugs.  But there is also a lot to enjoy in the Palmetto State.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go sit in carline and not melt.  OOOO, there's another thing...

An Open Letter to Blake Bortles

Dear Blake -

Hi.  How are you doing?  Pretty big week this week, wasn't it?  It must be hard to wrap your mind around.  On Tuesday, you were the starting quarterback of UCF - the "undeserving" recipient of the last BCS-based American Conference invite to a "big BCS bowl."  On Thursday, you were the Bearkiller.  MVP of the Fiesta Bowl.  Mr Clutch.  Hot NFL draft commodity.  Subject of an ESPN poll about if we knew who you were or not.  Topic of national sports discussion on various outlets (Dan Patrick, ESPN, NFL).  Quite the life-altering week.

You don't know me.  I don't really know you.  I know your mom (unlike the ESPN cameramen).  She was the preschool teacher for both of my sons.  I have a distant memory of a young version of you at some event for the preschool.  But we don't know each other at all.  I have watched you play.  As a fan, I have definitely cheered loudly for you.  Truthfully, there were times I yelled at you for some mistake you make.  But for the most part, I have just been impressed by you.  Your talent, your poise, your leadership, your guts, your fearlessness, your heart.  You are that kind of athlete that it is easy for a fan to cheer for.  You aren't surly or self-absorbed.  You don't have a long rap sheet of off the field mistakes. You say all the right stuff.  And you win.

You are probably too young to really understand what you mean to a UCF fan.  We have lived in the shadows of the "big boys" of college football for decades.  Twenty years ago we started to build a "real" football team.  We wanted to be taken seriously as a university and knew that it would never happen without that feature.  We went through years and years of playing in the bowels of college football.  Then we went through years and years of close calls - big games where we played valiantly and failed.  Nebraska. Georgia. Mississippi State, Ohio State. We came close so many times, but still lost.  Then we watched as other upstart programs gained the respect we so desperately craved.  Boise State went from being a potato farm to a BCS buster.  East Carolina, Appalachian State, Miami (Ohio).  They all took down the big guys.  And then worst of all, that stinking, no good USF started up a football program after us, raced past us, gained national notoriety, beat the crap out of us, and then dismissed us as a pointless frivolity they needn't be bothered with.

For years, we had to listen to USF fans mouth off at us.  They could win all these big time games.  We never could.  (The fact they consistently lost to teams "beneath them" was conveniently left out of the argument.  But I digress...)  Fans of the big dog schools like UF and FSU and UM were cruel.  They were bullies.  They ridiculed us and ignored us.  We were their "cupcake" scheduling.  It got to be disheartening.  And every time we made a little progress, it seemed like we got beaten back again.

We knew we had potential.  But it started to sound like one of those people on American Idol who swear they "can sing."  We sounded delusional.  Every time we went into a big game and tried to convince people (and ourselves) that we could win, well, they called us crazy.  And it was crazy.  Even when we beat a dominant program (like Alabama), it was when they were in a bad year.  It felt like we were forever stuck in the land of irrelevance.  The final straw was when we finally scratched our way into a BCS conference, it was one that was completely in shambles.

But that was all before you, before this year.  This year, everything changed.  This year, all of those pieces that never quite came together suddenly fit.  All of those nagging weaknesses that had crippled us for years seemed to disappear.  We went into Penn State and won a tough game.  We hosted #6 South Carolina on national television and almost won.  No, we should have won.  Even South Carolina fans admit they got away with that game.  See, I live in Columbia, SC now.  Nobody was crowing after that game up here.  They knew they got lucky.  Then we beat Louisville, even though it seemed impossible.  No game was ever over until the gun went off.  People starting calling UCF the Cardiac Knights.  They pulled most games out of their . . . um . . . armor.  See, we normally lost those games.  There were other years when we had success within our grasp and managed to snatch defeat out of the jaws of victory.  That Temple game this year?  The USF one?  The SMU Ice Bowl?  Those are games we would have lost in other years.  But not this team. They never gave up.

Well, you never gave up.  You had that same quality about you that Peyton Manning and Andrew Luck and John Elway had.  When things got tough, when your back was against the wall, you refused to buckle.  Even the South Carolina game was that way.  If the game had another minute in it, we would have been 12-0.  No game was truly lost.  It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

Then came the Fiesta Bowl.  For weeks, people asked me how I thought UCF would do.  I said the same thing.  "Of all of the BCS teams, I think we have the best shot against Baylor.  It will be tough.  But I think we have a chance."  Man, did we.  We beat the most explosive offense in the country by 10 points - even though we had back to back to back turnovers.  There is no explanation for that.  That was the kind of momentum shift that used to kill UCF.  It looked like the South Carolina game.  But that collapse never happened.  That Baylor explosion never came.  And when you came out in the second half and scored on four straight possessions, people all over the country finally realized that UCF truly did belong on the big stage.  And you belonged on the big stage, probably the biggest stage.  Blake Bortles - NFL quarterback.

Most of the discussion in the last few days has been about if you are coming back to UCF next year.  I admit, I am curious as well.  I certainly would love for you to return.  But...

I watched Daunte Culpepper from his first game at UCF to his last.  I remember mentally pleading with him to come back in his senior year to give us a chance to go 11-0.  He did come back, but we never did reach the zenith with him.  Then Kevin Smith came along.  We all psychically urged him to return as well, but he didn't.  He went to the NFL.  Staying may have helped his career, but not his knees.  Here we are again with a superstar.  And the UCF fan in me wants to beg again for you to come back, to possibly take us even farther into our destiny.  But that wouldn't be fair.

You have done more for UCF than we could have imagined.  You have put our entire school on your shoulders and carried us all the way to Glendale and back.  You pulled us those last steps that we never seemed to be able to make.  We are now nationally recognized.  We have gained respect.  UCF is not just a directional Florida school.  It is a team to be reckoned with.  What more could we ask of you?  In my wildest dreams, I think that we could run the table and maybe snag one of those four playoff spots next January.  In more realistic thoughts, I imagine that we will end up in another prestigious bowl with another big payday to invest in the future.  You'll be a Heisman candidate.  We'll have a great year.

Or.... You could get hurt.  God forbid, you could get hurt.  Or we could just as easily lose a few of those nailbiters we won this year.  You could see your draft stock drop like Matt Barkley did.  I don't want that to happen.  So, that is why I am not going to beg you to come back.  I want you to do what is best for you.  I want you to go to the NFL if you think that is the best thing for your future.  I want you to come back if you think the extra experience will help.  But don't come back for us.  You've already given us everything we could ask and more.  If you leave, I will root for you every Sunday.  I'll probably get a "Bortles" jersey.  If you can manage to get picked by the Jaguars, I'll be over the moon happy.  I will support you in the pros just like every UCF alum out there.  Actually, that's not true.  I'll support you more.  That's how fans show their gratitude.

So, thank you for your time at UCF.  Thank you for helping us to believe the crazy can happen.  Thank you for never giving up, even when you could have justified doing that.  And thank you for helping us to know what it feels like to "win the big game."  I wish you all the best - be it in Orlando, Jacksonville, Oakland, or Cleveland.  (Well, I wish you better than Cleveland.)  I'll follow you on Saturdays or Sundays, whatever you choose.  Blake and Gold, all the way.

Your Appreciative Fan,

David

UCFan

On Saturday, we went to a Christmas party for Heather's work.  One of the third year residents had recently gotten married to a "guy from UCF" - that was the extent of my knowledge of the young man.  At one point, they were sitting on the couch and I walked up to ask if they were going to Arizona for UCF's Fiesta Bowl appearance.  They ecstatically answered in the affirmative.  I found out he actually works in the sports marketing department at UCF, which is just so cool to me.  Off and on for the next several hours, I chatted with Ryan about UCF's sports programs.  We watched the Heisman trophy presentation and I asked if he would be working on a Heisman campaign for Blake Bortles, UCF QB, if he comes back next year.  He said he would.  Then we talked about how Blake actually has a tough decision because he could legitimately be a top ten pick in this draft.  This all seemed like a perfectly sane conversation.

Yesterday, I got a text from my friend Candy.  She is a UCF alum, as is her husband, Allen - one of my roommates in college.  We have kept up with them and they are some of our best friends.  While we lived in Orlando, we usually spent New Year's Eve with them at our house.  Our move to Columbia seemed to end that tradition.  Not so fast!  They are going to be traveling for the holidays and will be staying with us over New Year's.  In her text, she said, "Aren't you excited we will be there for the Fiesta Bowl?!?"  I hadn't connected that.  I've watched a ton of UCF games this year, all alone.  The thought of having fellow UCF fans here?  On New Year's Day?  To watch UCF in a bowl game?  Heck yes, I'm excited.  Again, a perfectly sane exchange.

Rewind about 20 years.  I had recently shed my lifelong love of the University of Georgia to firmly align with UCF.  If I was going to spend thousands of dollars at a school to get a degree, I was going to get the most I could out of the experience.  Student tickets to football games were free, so I went to most of the home games.  We were small time football.  There was a big battle on the campus between the academics who felt that a school should rely on its academic achievements alone and those who believe that a strong successful sports program enhances the school as a whole.  The new university President, Dr Hitt, was trying to walk the fine line between sides while pushing what he knew was best - sports is a billboard for the school.  UCF was going to transition to Division I and had to spend a couple years in I-AA.  So our schedule was made up of teams like Garner-Webb and Bethune-Cookman.   We envied powerhouse schools like Georgia Southern and Youngstown State.  There would be louder cheers from the crowd when the UF or FSU scores were announced than when UCF scored.

My senior year, through a bizarre set of circumstances, we landed Daunte Culpepper.  He should have been at a big name school.  But here we were, sitting in the Citrus Bowl, watching someone who was the best player on the field by leaps and bounds.  We almost beat Nebraska in Lincoln, starting an annoying trend of "almost beating" big teams.  Daunte was invited to the Heisman Trophy award ceremony.  He got drafted 11th by the Vikings.  We never even won a I-AA title, but didn't care because it was a just a transitional stage - starting an annoying trend of looking too far ahead and being mediocre where we were.  We got into trouble with the NCAA, starting an annoying trend of being on the wrong side of the law.  And we watched teams like USF pop up and race past us.  It was frustrating to be a UCF fan.  Big schools like UF and FSU didn't take us seriously.  Lesser schools like USF and Bowling Green didn't take us seriously.  Even doody schools like Miami (Ohio) and Marshall didn't take us seriously.  We were just kind of farting around.

Ten years ago, UCF fired Mike Kruczek as head coach.  There was an uproar among some fans because Kruczek was the one who recruited Daunte.  That fact alone had gotten him the head coaching job and kept him there.  And to some, he could have ridden that score forever.  But there was a simple fact at play: we weren't going anywhere as long as we kept Kruczek.  It was the same fact that ultimately led to the firing of Kirk Speraw as basketball coach.  Both of those guys were good coaches.  They mostly had winning teams.  Every so often, we would pop into the postseason in some way - mostly as cannon fodder or a footnote.  But UCF would be terminally trapped in mediocrity.  The school itself was exploding in size and renown.  There was no justifiable reason why a school ranked in the top five nationally in enrollment in a massive sports state like Florida should be putzing around like UCF was.

Just like when Daunte came to town, UCF got lucky again.  George O'Leary had an impressive resume.  He had been named National Coach of the Year while at Georgia Tech.  They went to big bowl games five years in a row.  And he had been hired as coach of Notre Dame.  But his resume was a little TOO good.  It turned out he had said he had a master's degree and had lettered in football.  It was resume padding - something that many people over the years have done to break into the business.  But he didn't remove the padding once he "made it."  And so he was fired.  He ended up getting hired by the Minnesota Vikings as their defensive coordinator, where he led them from 30th in the NFL in defense to 10th.  UCF saw a huge opportunity.  O'Leary was obviously a great coach.  His errors in judgment didn't affect that.  So they jumped and hired O'Leary as their new head coach.  UCF got tons of coverage for the hiring.  They also got tons of coverage the next year, when they went 0-11.  Hardly a promising start.

The first six years or so of O'Leary's tenure was rough to say the least.  UCF would alternate winning records and losing records for six years.  There were some extremely frustrating experiences.  I called for his firing on multiple occasions, especially after USF beat the tar out of us 62-12 in 2007.  I even went so far as to submit some slightly cruel questions to his radio show like "Does living without a soul make you cold?"  We had a major NCAA investigation thanks to our cheating Athletic Director.  A player died during workouts.  It seemed like things would never get better.

But things were getting better.  UCF's graduation rates were among the highest in the nation.  We were being shown on national television.  We actually started to win some of those games we used to "almost win."  There still were maddening failures.  We still always were on the outside looking in with the major conferences.  When we finally got invited to join one, it was the collapsing Big East.  But progress was being made.  We had another Heisman candidate in Kevin Smith.  Former UCF players like Matt Prater, Brandon Marshall, and Josh Sitton were excelling in the NFL.

It seemed like everything clicked this past year.  UCF's affiliation with the Big East (sorry, American Conference) paid off in the final year of the BCS.  There was an automatic bid with a championship to one of the "big bowls" - Orange, Sugar, Fiesta, Rose.  Our homegrown quarterback, Blake Bortles, morphed into a big time college player.  [Side note, Blake's mom was Josiah's and Gabe's preschool teacher.  That certainly makes all of this even more exciting.]  Last year, we almost knocked off Ohio State.  This year, we actually did beat Penn State in their stadium.  We only lost to South Carolina by three and should have won that game.  Living up here, it was interesting to see the nation's opinion of UCF change so rapidly.  The people I encountered up here prior to the game thought it was just another cupcake for Clowney and company to feast upon.  I kept saying they needed to watch out; UCF was better than they thought.  It was a tough game to watch because UCF was the better team.  Time after time they shot themselves in the foot.  USC won, but UCF came storming back and probably would have taken the game if it had gone to overtime.  The thing is, USC fans knew that.  After that, anytime people saw my UCF shirt or license plate, they responded differently.  "Man, you almost got us."  Or, "you guys have a good team this year."  These were SEC people who usually see the rest of the college football landscape as the minor leagues.  They saw UCF as a threat.

That ability to come storming back and never give up became the hallmark of this UCF team.  It felt like we were losing just about every game at some point in the fourth quarter.  No game was ever over until the final gun.  Time and again, UCF came through.  Blake Bortles and the Defense refused to let UCF lose.  We knocked off eighth ranked, undefeated Louisville in their house on a Thursday night on ESPN.  We were on ESPN for four games and ABC for the first time ever.  UCF ended up 11-1, undefeated in conference play, ranked 15th, and in the Fiesta Bowl against Baylor.  Less than twenty years after saying "How could we possibly expect to beat Youngstown State? They are a national power."  Ten years after being ranked dead last in the NCAA Division I.  We were playing in a BCS bowl.  We had a nationally ranked team.  We had another Heisman candidate, with a real shot at starting in the NFL.

An interesting statistic was mentioned during the Blizzard Bowl against SMU last week.  The few seniors UCF have (just seven) finished their college career with 37 wins in their four years - an average of 9 wins a year.  They actually won 11, 5, 10, and 11 games.  How does 37 wins across the last four years stack up?  Let us see.

• Florida - 30 wins
• FSU - 40 wins
• USF - 18 wins
• Miami - 29 wins
• Texas - 30 wins
• South Carolina - 41 wins
• USC - 34 wins

Let's just say it isn't bad.  UCF and George O'Leary has built something in Orlando.  The most impressive thing about this team is that there were only seven seniors.  UCF should be better next year.  Do you mind if I type that again?  It's my blog, so I can do what I want.  UCF should be better next year.  There are a bunch of assumptions to that statement.  Blake Bortles could go pro, which would effectively render that line of thinking moot.  The American Conference isn't going to be much better next year.  Louisville is leaving for greener pastures.  And our non-conference games are even better next year.  Missouri, BYU, and Penn State IN IRELAND!!!  That guarantees several nationally televised games.  We obviously will get a lot of coverage for the Fiesta Bowl.  And if we beat Baylor....

That is the wonderful thing about being a UCF fan right now.  We've been through a lot over the years.  Finally having success feels so good.  But having hope as a fan is even better.  Is it crazy to say we could beat Baylor?  Oh yeah.  But, at this point, crazy isn't so crazy any more.  Who would have thought we could beat Penn State or Louisville this year?  Or what about hanging in there with South Carolina to where we gave the game away, which is entirely different than getting beaten outright?   Who would have thought we would be 11-1 or in a BCS bowl or ranked 15 or anything that happened this year?  It is all crazy.  So, talking about beating Baylor has become a perfectly sane conversation.