There is a man in this world that I feel deeply connected to, but have never said a word to. The man that I refer to is the guy, about my age, that sat in front of me this year at the football games. I do not know his name, nor do I want to, but in the off chance he comes across my blog, I would like to leave him this memo:
Dear guy in the red shirt that sits in front of me at the Utah games,
It was a pleasure sharing this joyous year with you. We never spoke, but we clearly were connected, you and I; connected on so many levels.
You give a solid high five. A very solid high five. Firm, tough, connecting every time. I feel impressed to tell you that your high five connections are solid; solid like a rock.
There were two different occasions that we may have hugged: the Sakoda kick in the Oregon State game and the touchdown pass during the TCU game. In fact, I am fairly certain we hugged at least once. Our section was going so bonkers, I am not sure who I was hugging, but I am confident one of the lucky souls was you. Further, please excuse my hands that tend to wonder when I hug strangers. And finally, thank you for snapping back into reality before I and refusing my kiss. I would have regretted that.
I'd also like to tell you that I think you are hilarious. The way you turned around and yelled at the BYU fans sitting behind me that "IT'S OVER! IT'S OVER!" while Kruger was still running down the field with the ball was priceless. Also, as the game was coming to a close, I found you very comical; the way in which you were taking pictures of all the sad BYU fans. Somehow, you were able to locate the mopiest looking zoobies in the stadium.
I would also like to apologize for the time that you turned around to mock the BYU fans with your hands in the air. I mistakenly took your gesture for a request for a high five. I felt awfully foolish for slapping your closed fist. Nevertheless, you were very understanding and gave me a do-over, this time connecting on the almighty, highest high five I have ever had. You, my dear sir, are the definition of class.
Although we have never conversed with our mouths, or notes, or even sign language for that matter, I feel that we connected this year as brothers united in UTE-dome - and I enjoyed every second of it.
Your best stadium buddy,
PS. Great high fives. Real solid.