My father would watch football on Sundays, but he had no particular allegiance to any team. I think as an immigrant, with limited English skills, he felt more of a connection to nation than he did to region, perhaps. Either way, I was not steered in one particular direction to become a fan of any particular team. The Browns were the closest team to where I lived at the time, and in the late 70s they weren't the worst team in the world. But another team captured my imagination as a 5 year old. Their coach stood on the sideline in a suit, wearing a fedora. Their offensive line would break the huddle, walk to the line of scrimmage, get down into their stance, and then stand together in unison, and then go back down into their stance. It was magical. I was hooked. And for the last 30+ years, I have passionately followed this team. There were some hard times in the 80s, to be sure, but I was rewarded handsomely in the 90s. There were times, as a younger man, that I lived and died with each win or loss. Those times have changed, but I still am just as passionate about the team. Despite this, I have never, in my life, seen a Dallas Cowboys game live, in person. There are many reasons, but the most significant of course is that I have never lived in or near Dallas. I have lived in San Francisco for the last 30 years, and although they have traveled through, to be sure, circumstances have prevented me from making it. On Saturday I will hop on a flight to Dallas, and on Sunday will attend the first Dallas Cowboys game of my life. I decided enough was enough. A good friend of the family, I just discovered, has season tickets and cannot make every game. He made it possible for me to see my first game. This Sunday, I will be there. 439. 16. 5. It's going to be amazing.