The faint scent of roses

The memories are distant, like a familiar scent from bygone days. They are everywhere, and through a single whiff of that familiar smell, they unlock a treasure trove of moments.

Vince Young's triumphant run into the endzone and into immortality is a catalyst for those memories, the Longhorn quarterback's touchdown that ended USC's hopes of a second consecutive championship equivalent to the symbolic key.

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The 2006 Rose Bowl is more than just the single greatest college football game of my lifetime. The titanic clash of Trojans and Longhorns and the top three Heisman vote-getters in the 2006 season is a reminder of the place the game has held in my life.

From an age before I could recall having a memory, Saturday football in the autumn has been the star around which my life has fallen into orbit. Tiger Stadium was a second home, a second classroom and, eventually, a weekend office.

The memories cascade through the floodgates and fill my mind. The scent of stadium peanuts peeled by my uncle and the empty shells that covered the ground under our bleachers like autumn leaves were Saturday mainstays. A Sony radio headset, whenever I could wrestle it away from my dad, lived around my neck as an extra means through which to experience the game I was watching unfold with my own eyes. When the calendar flipped to November, the stadium hot chocolate I shared with my mom burned my tongue and reminded me that another season was nearing its end.

On an average day, the 2005 college football season holds no place in my life other than one of many cherished memories laying dormant in the recesses of my consciousness. Trigger the right switch -- in this case, the 2006 Rose Bowl -- and the fall season in the life of an eight-year-old comes back to life.

USC was the dynasty of the 2000s, the team to beat, the team a younger me hoped would fall week after week. Except they would not fall. Matt Leinart lined up under center. Reggie Bush was the most electric player I had seen in my young life. News of the "Bush Push" filled my ears from that same Sony headset, the eventual Heisman winner nudging the Trojans to the narrowest of narrow escapes against Notre Dame and crushing the dreams of a third-grader with very little concept of anything that mattered in the real world.

Texas had Vince Young. THAT guy. Cam Newton before Cam Newton was Cam Newton. Texas refused to let an opponent come close enough to polish Bevo's horns after barely escaping Ohio State in week one. They won their conference championship game by 67 points. Even still, Texas was not USC.

Texas was not USC. There was no way they could slay the giant.

Texas was not USC, but they had no need to be USC. They had Vince Young, and on January 4, 2006, that was enough.

I was eight years old when Texas beat USC for the national championship in the 2006 Rose Bowl. I know the final score was 41 to 38, I know that Vince Young's nine-yard touchdown run with 19 seconds remaining in the fourth quarter is maybe the greatest play in college football history and I know that USC's loss will never take away from the air of invincibility surrounding the Trojans in the 34 games prior to their defeat. No matter how many times I rewatch the game, my takeaways will never change.

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College football has held many different meanings in my life. When I was young, the game meant something to me when not much else did. The game was my grand adventure, a journey I embarked on seven times each year. When it was my turn to step on campus, the game became the daily partner I spent my afternoons with, the friend I saw on weekends and the hands-on classroom I visited in between early-morning lectures and late-night homework. In the present chapter of my life, the game means even more to me. The game pays my bills and occupies nearly every waking hour of my life.

Right now, amidst an uncertain future, an unsettling pain and all the shades of gray, the game has provided a beacon of light with which to help aim my gaze toward the end of the tunnel. In a way, the game has taken on the greatest meaning it has ever held in my life -- a reminder to slow down, smell the roses and remember the good times.

Cover photo from The University of Texas Athletics