I’ve been in stadiums with broader walking paths and concession areas which do not choke off passage ways with crowds of queuing humans, but the history, the experience witnessing a game with tens of thousands of fellow fans makes Neyland special for me.
You leave home after high school. You go off for a while and make your own way in the world, whether at college or in your first full-time job.
Then one day, you come back home. And the halls seem narrower, and the ceilings lower, the whole place just seems smaller. And you notice for the first time that it's not the best built place, it looks kind of tired and worn down.
But none of that matters, because it's home. It is the place you and your brothers and sisters grew up together. There's a memory embedded in every scratch on the wood floor, every dent in the door jambs. The place bleeds history. Your history. Our history.
Remember the Tennessee walking horses on the sidelines before the games? Remember the lads used to come out onto the field through that door instead of this one? Remember the V O L S panels? Remember the astro turf? Remember when you could see Ayers Hall from inside the stadium? Remember paying this much, and paying no more? Remember that fella checking his watch in a downpour at the edge of the end zone? Remember that other fella running what seemed like 200 yards to make a 25 yard touchdown?
Memories, in every paint chip and every brick.
That's Neyland. As you say, Tin Man, doesn't matter that she's not the newest, or the shiniest, or the easiest to get around in.
She's home. Home for us Vols.
Happy 100th, Neyland Stadium!