I’ll be honest, that year changed me in how I root for my teams. For awhile I thought it hardened me, made me less susceptible to the emotional attachment that leads to such heartache. But that wasn’t quite it. It helped open my eyes to see the value of the journey over the destination.
I blame Frosty for many things in my life. I blame him for my desire to stay at a small school rather than pursue a “big time” job at a Division I university. I blame him for my recognition that the journey is more important than the destination. And I absolutely blame him for my unwavering passion for athletics and the belief that few experiences can more effectively shape hearts and souls than the brotherhood forged on the field of play – and I never played a competitive team sport.
