Why college football means more

I was born a Tiger. I don’t know any different. It started about 40 years before i was born. My grandfather, born the youngest of four sons and a couple sisters, moved from Columbia, SC, to Baton Rouge, LA, to live with his uncle Julian. It so happened that Julian was a professor and The Dean of Horticulture at LSU. That was a big deal at an Agriculture school in what was predominantly a farming and shipping economy.

My grandfather, Lester C Miller, Jr (thanks for passing that name down to me), graduated from LSU, joined the Army, swept my Granny Thelma offer her feet, had a few kids, sold some tires, and spent most of his life traveling and telling stories. Among few other things, he most loved telling stories about his time at LSU.

There’s not much doubt that of the seven grandkids he had, I’m the one that fell in the deepest love with the LSU Tigers. Granny and Da, as we called him, took me to campus when I was 15. It became the first college I applied to, and I gave my acceptance letter to Da on Christmas Day in 1995. He talked me out of going there because USC had the better journalism school. A month or two prior, he’d taken me to my first ever LSU football game. Fittingly the Tigers and Gamecocks tied that day in Columbia, 20-20. I became a Gamecock a few months later.

In 2001 I met Angela, and not long after we started dating, i took her to her first football game ever. LSU was visiting Virginia Tech, and Granny & Da took us. Despite a massive purple and gold showing at Lane Stadium, it was the Hokie’s day that day, but it was my second LSU game with Da, and the first with the lady that would be my wife forever.

In June 2003 I extended the Lester C Miller branch of the family tree as Crosson came into the world as numeral V. The Tigers put up the best season I’d ever seen them play in my life that season. They had just one loss and were playing in the SEC Championship when Da went in for surgery right after Thanksgiving. Due to complications, he wouldn’t wake up for several months. He missed their first national championship since 1958, but don’t you worry, we decorated his hospital room in purple, gold, and all the newspaper stories. We even had recorded the game for him.

2007 was such a crappy year, to put it mildly. Angela and I went through literal hell as Charlie was diagnosed with Neuroblastoma and began his battle with Opsoclonus Myoclonus Syndrome. If that wasn’t enough, My company pushed me out because of the insurance costs, so we decided to move our family across the state for Charlie to get better care. Then Angela’s dad passed away. Da passed away a couple weeks later.

His funeral was the day of the long anticipated, (rescheduled twice) LSU vs Virginia Tech game in Baton Rouge. Who puts car flags on a hearse and brings purple and gold balloons to a gravesite? This family does. I delivered a eulogy, sure of the fact Da had the best seat in the house, high above Tiger Stadium in the warm Louisiana night sky for the game later that night. We watched the game at Jamey’s house and the Tigers handed VT the worst loss of the Beamer era. That began the march to something else I never thought I’d see: a second national championship.

In 2011 the Tigers went back to the national championship, losing that one to Alabama and former LSU coach Nick Saban. It was a gut punch of a loss, but I remember telling Angela: I’ve been alive for three LSU national championship games, three more than i ever thought I’d see. All three were played in New Orleans, and for various reasons I’d been unable to go for all three. I made a vow: if there’s a fourth in my life, come hell or high water, I’m there.

In the nine years that have passed a lot has changed. We have moved, the kids have grown up quite a bit (and Charlie is healthy). We took the boys to LSU last summer. I met and have become friends with former Tiger Derrius Guice. Angela and I flew to Dallas last year for what would be Joe Burrow’s first game as a Tiger. All the changes, but I never missed a Tiger game.

Today I embark on maybe the most meaningful trip of my life (no added drama here). On a lark, I asked both my brothers if they wanted to go. At best Jamey is somewhere between a casual fan and a diehard (he’s coming around), and Travis will never wear anything but Maroon & Orange, but he’s being supportive. They both booked flights the day i invited them... we don’t have tickets to the game (yet), but we will be there. We will be around hundreds of thousands of purple and gold clad Tigers. We will be under that Louisiana sky that our Da spent so many nights sleeping under. God willing, I will see Joe Burrow’s final game as a Tiger, and another national title. I’ll be with my brothers and my Da’s spirit.

GEAUX TIGERS.