We all seek to be in the presence of greatness. Some of us have actually been there. I knew I was there before reaching the age of ten. Saturday after Saturday, year after year, along I tagged with my dad and Butler University’s Coach Hinkle. We marched together down the tunnel connecting the fieldhouse and football field, accompanied by a herd of stampeding metal cleats echoing throughout the concrete tunnel. These titans were preparing for battle. Out of the tunnel into blazing sunlight ran the warriors to the cheers of throngs of Bulldog fans. I never stopped asking dad and Coach Hinkle every question that came to mind, which were many. They even suggested at one point that I go over to a long wooden bench of some kind and ask some more questions directly to a real football player who was apparently awaiting his turn to play. It just couldn’t get any better than this.
