Hi, I’m John. I’m 53 and I didn’t go to Vanderbilt to school. When I was in Lipscomb elementary school this amazing basketball player named Clyde Lee played b-ball at Lipscomb High School. He got a scholarship to Vandy. My goggle-eyed admiration of Lee transferred to full affection for Commodores of all sports.
I’m 53. I never played football. I was a skinny-manager-type who taped a few ankles and washed a LOT of uniforms. I was not a good athlete. This lack of athletic talent seemed like a rebuke from God because all I wanted at the time (well, until I discovered girls) was to be a jock with at least a modicum of talent. I did letter in tennis, but only because there were only eight people who tried out for a 8-man team.
I say all this because there is no rational reason in the world for me to still be devoted to Vanderbilt sports. Clyde Lee hasn’t played for the ‘Dores in many many years. I’ve had season tickets to football and basketball on and off since I moved back to Nashville in 1980. I’ve often been disgusted by a school that wants to be (in the words of one ex-coach) ‘Harvard on Monday through Friday, and Alabama on Saturday’. I share nothing but a medium-sized city with Vanderbilt, but for some reason…for some reason…
I felt giddy yesterday, absolutely giddy when the final seconds of the Vandy-UT game elapsed. There were tears in my voice when I called my sons in turn….they were at work but they both managed to watch the game. I think I heard a catch in their voices as well.
How can something so ultimately inconsequential and so seemingly irrelevant to my life matter so much to me? I don’t know, and you know what….I just don’t care.