We all remember it. We can tell you where we were during those pivotal, historical moments in Husker history. Like the rest of America can tell you where they were when Kennedy got shot. Or the Challenger Space Shuttle exploding. Magic Johnson announcing he has HIV. For Husker fans, going for two, finally beating Miami, touchdown Tommie’s “how many tackles can one man break,” Henry from 57 yards, Suh’s dominance, Abdullah’s brilliance. And so many more. These magical moments are burned into our brains, and will remain there throughout our mortal existence.

I shall never forget my first up close experience with the Big Red. November 11, 1989. My uncle had significant connections within the program, and before I knew it, my brother, father, uncle and I were walking through the locker room. THE locker room. There goes Gerry Gdowski, Jake Young, Ken Clark, and of course, the real OG, Dr. Tom Osborne himself. Real life heroes to this 100 lb 8th grader born in the heart of Nebraska before moving to eastern Wyoming. I was hooked. For life. I was a fan before that moment, but I was hook, line and sinker from that moment forward. Through the good and the bad. Even the Callahan years.

In high school, I quickly realized my love for the game of football would be relegated to cheering for football, and not playing it. I moved on to others sports (long distance running), with the hopes of one day competing for the Big Red. Can’t join em, run with em. Long story short, my journey took me to college 500 miles to the west, where I retained my closet GBR football loyalties and cheered that winter as the Big Red finally knocked off the hated Miami Hurricanes and the ganga smoking Warren Sapp. Finally, vindication. Dr. Tom had finally won one. We all know he wasn’t done.

Point being, we all have one–or several–seminal moments where we felt connected to the Big Red. We were THEM, and we felt like they were one of us. And those moments–we remember every vivid detail. The play by play. Pavelka’s voice, then Sharpe’s. As the years wore on and memories of triumphs were replaced with agony of not if but when a coach would be let go, we yearned more and more for the glory years. The pipeline. The difference makers. The walk on success stories. Some accused us of living in the past. At least we had one, we would fire back. We reluctantly agreed that the Iowa ditch-chickens would be our new rival, replacing the respected but loved-to-beat-them Sooners.

Which brings us to this. What will this season be remembered for? Is no expectations the new hype? Who is this year’s Emmett Johnson? Will the sellout streak survive? If Indiana–INDIANA–did it, when will we? Where will we be when the next pivotal moment in the Big Red’s storied history happens?

For now, everything is on the table. Coach Rhule says this is his most talented team ever. Pundits point out this year’s schedule is a murderer’s row. Zero points in the preseason poll. Zip. Zero. Nada. Will any of it matter? A mobile quarterback with just enough of a gambler’s mentality to go for broke–and get it. A new defensive coordinator, and an offensive line coach with the talent and scheme to protect Colandrea. Capable, battle tested backup QBs.

In a few short days, we will have answers. And more questions. Ohio shouldn’t be the final measuring stick, yet impossible to overlook any opponent. Appalachian State, we salute you, right Michigan? Nonetheless, by Sunday morning, we will have had a good look under the hood to see the parts of this year’s version of the Big Red Machine. Will it have enough horses to carry the burden of expectations from Big Red nation far and wide? Beat Iowa? A ranked opponent often enough it’s no longer considered an abnormality? Maybe, finally crack into the sacred space of the College Football Playoff? It could happen. It could also miss by a cornfield mile.

Buckle up folks, it’s about to be a whirlwind ride.