I reckon I'm older than most on VN. Six decades are already in my rear view mirror, and I'm rolling through the seventh. I witnessed the Artful Dodger live and in person during my matriculation at UT. Back then, fans would send moving vans to Bill Battle's house. Imagine the impact to his family...
I've seen a helluva lot since then, glorious victories on the gridiron, ignominious defeats, great coaching, wretched coaching, Vols fans working together in the rain to push a visiting Bammer family's car off the shoulder and back onto the pavement, a purported Tennessee fan (wasn't wearing a scrap of orange) angrily shoving my wife for being halfway into the stadium aisle (she was allowing someone seated in the middle of the row to make their exit before returning to her seat)... Mostly, I recall the innumerable acts of generosity, good will, and displays of good humor which identify Vols fans wherever they may be gathered together. This has been our general group character.
Experience has lengthened my view, tempered my perspective, and deepened my fandom. I know when to indulge in flights of fantasy and how to fully enjoy these as well as when and how to face the cold, hard truth. I've been on the path for awhile, and I'm a more enlightened fan.
I get the OP. I get the impatient whippersnappers barking all over the threads. I get the negavols letting the air out of the raft, and I get the pumpers putting the raft into the river expecting nothing but blue skies and gentle breezes. It's all in perspective for me. Now, when you're ready to take a breath and offer me a refreshing beverage, I'll be genuinely appreciative. GBO.
