What I remember about my first Alabama football game are the sounds and smells, more than anything that took place on the field. If you’ll allow me, I’d like to tell you how it is that I became a dyed-in-the-wool fan of the Crimson Tide.

I arrived in Tuscaloosa from the hills of southern Ohio, ready to begin my college adventure. Most of the kids I had grown up with were fans of Ohio State, Michigan or Notre Dame, but in my quest to be different I had latched on to the Alabama Crimson Tide as my team.

I grew up visiting family in Huntsville every summer and I had always thought the championship tradition, the simple but visually striking uniforms, and the numbers on the helmets were the coolest things in college football. Besides, Ohio State was for the kids who couldn’t get into Miami, Denison, Case Western or Cincinnati. Michigan may has well have been in the Arctic circle, and Notre Dame was the team that had the most insufferable fans I had ever met. Alabama was the place that had clocks on the walls in restaurants where instead of numbers 1-12, they had national championship years.

At the end of my first week on campus, a group of new friends and I made the trek to Birmingham, since at that time Alabama still played half of their “home” games at Legion Field. We found a place to park by following the visual cues of a gentleman waving what appeared to be his underpants as a flag. After parking, we unloaded the Styrofoam coolers full of Natural Light and partook in perhaps the greatest of SEC traditions, the tailgate.

Minutes after arriving, someone thrust a plastic stadium cup half full of Coke and ice into my hand, then handed me two mini bottles of Jack Daniel’s. It’s that smell that had me hooked from that moment on. Plastic stadium cups have a smell unlike anything other, and it is not exactly pleasant, but when mixed with Coke and whiskey they smell like Heaven. If I close my eyes and concentrate, I swear I can still smell the Jack & Cokes, the beers, and the charcoal grills from a tailgate years ago.

After a few hours of pre-game revelry we made our way into the stadium. I had grown up attending Cincinnati Reds and Bengals games, but baseball doesn’t have the same atmosphere as football, and the Bengals were awful. This was different.

There was a buzz, a nervous energy pulsing through the crowd. Nothing was happening on the field yet, but nobody could sit down. Then they played the song.

I was certainly familiar with Lynyrd Skynyrd’s ‘Sweet Home Alabama,’ but this time was unlike any other time I had heard it. It was like a bomb had gone off in the stadium and a surge of electricity shot up my spine. The roar of tens of thousands of people clad in crimson and white told me I was about to experience something special. To this day, whenever I hear ‘Sweet Home Alabama,’ I swear I hear “ROLL TIDE ROLL!” in the middle of the chorus. I play the song in my house before games because that’s what is done before Alabama games. As my wife can attest, if I find myself in some watering hole and have had a few drinks, and the anthem is played it takes every ounce of willpower not to add that into the chorus.

A few minutes later, the Crimson Tide took the field and lined up for the kickoff. The crowd all around me began waving their shakers above their heads and launched into a loud, sustained call:

“Roooooooooooooooooooooooooooollllllllllllllllllllllllll…”

Then, when foot met leather:

“Tide! Roll!”

I missed that cheer since I had no idea what was going on, but at every Alabama game I have attended since that day, I have dutifully participated in the ritual.

Alabama beat some over-matched mid-major cupcake that day, but for me it was big as any Iron Bowl, SEC Championship game or national title game. That day the Tide went from being the football team I watched on TV and hoping they won (the few times a year we would get the Bama game in Ohio) to being my team. Those that have also been bitten by the college football bug understand the madness.

My time in Tuscaloosa was short, as homesickness got the better of me and I transferred to a school back home midway through college. My new school also gave me hundreds of great memories, and it is there that I met my lifelong friends, but MAC football just isn’t the same as the brand they play in Dixie. Fortunately during my time in college ESPN2 started airing MAC games on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, giving me an excuse to tailgate and watch football midweek, while keeping my Saturdays open to watch my beloved Crimson Tide. If there was a bar in town with more than one TV then that is where you would find me, begging the bartender to find the Alabama game and not subject me to some Big Ten abomination.

I have not set foot in the state of Alabama since 2005, when my beloved grandmother passed. It was a Saturday when I got the call. My parents broke the news and I was heartbroken. As I searched for flights to Huntsville, out of habit I had the Alabama game on in the background. For the first time in many years I didn’t give a damn about a football game, but my team was there for me.

The 2005 season was certainly not a memorable one for the Tide, but they won that day. They trounced South Carolina that Saturday and in my mind they did it for me and my grandmother. That day I was reminded of a phrase my grandmother emailed to me while I was in Tuscaloosa.

“If you want to get to Heaven, and walk the streets of gold, you have to know the password, ‘Roll Tide Roll.'”

I love Alabama football. This may be the delusional homer in me, but no other team has the tradition, the pageantry, the significance and the magic of the Alabama Crimson Tide. As another season dawns I can barely contain my excitement. In a few short days my team will run out onto the field, I will pour myself a glass of bourbon, I will sit my toddler and my infant on the couch next to me, I will crank ‘Sweet Home Alabama’ over the speakers.

And I will smile and enjoy college football, the greatest game on the planet.

Why are you a fan of the Tide? Were you born into it? Did you go the University? Let me hear from you.

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