I had the stroke of sheer fortune to take one of my closest friends to a UT-Florida game back in the 90s - smack dab on the 50, lower deck. We were young college brats who couldn't begin to appreciate our luck, but that day became one of the best memories of my life- and my friend's been a Vol ever since. I couldn't count the number of games we went to over the next fifteen years (along with other friends, family, all that). No matter how strange life got, or how far apart we were, we always found our way back to Neyland. Out in the sun, pads popping, crowd rocking. No matter how old we got, we had a few days each year to feel as young as we were that first game.
Well, we haven't gone to a home game in 9 years, save the Battle at Bristol. I regret that. I regret that Tennessee football has been so historically crappy that we hardly even talk about going to a game anymore. I regret that one of my most life-changing gifts to him was to become a fan of one of the most overhyped and dysfunctional college programs of the modern era. Oh sure, we do other things, but Tennessee football was _our_ thing. Well. Was our thing. Now it's a thing we chat about online. By halftime, there's often not much left to say about the day's game. And we go about our business.
That, right there, is my apathy.
Is it at an all-time high? I don't know how it could get much higher. Even when I go, because I'm an idiot and will bleed orange until they call it, I don't tend to believe too much. I hope. I certainly do. But I've learned not to hope too much.
Except Oklahoma in 2015. I was damn certain we would blow the stupid doors off stupid Oklahoma. Stupid field goal. Stupid Baker Mayfield. Anyway.