My True Colors

Beyond your impressive academic credentials and extracurricular accomplishments, what else makes you unique and colorful? We know nobody fits neatly into 500 words or less, but you can provide us with some suggestion of the type of person you are. Anything goes! Inspire us, impress us, or just make us laugh. Think of this optional opportunity as show and tell by proxy and with an attitude.

Walk into my room and you will immediately notice blue draped across the walls and blanketed over my bed. This is not just any tone of blue; it is the Tennessee Titans’ baby blue. My infatuation with the Titans took root during my childhood. Sitting just feet from the television as a six-year-old, I watched entranced as Texas prepared for their last chance to snatch a college football national championship away from USC. The Longhorn’s star-quarterback, Vince Young, scampered his way into the end zone to win not only a national championship but also my endearing loyalty to him, and his future NFL team.

In many ways, my life revolves around the Titans. During the seventeen-week NFL season, I schedule my weekends around the Titans’ game. To ensure that I have time to watch the Titans on Sunday, I spend most Saturdays in the library, a decision my friends jokingly tag as “cruel and unusual punishment”. To me, it is a no-brainer. These thrilling moments watching the game are my most prized hours of the week. My Titans’ fervor affects my mood for days after each game. After a victory, you can find me bursting with joy. Losses are another story as my parents discovered when they had to carry me away from the television in a frenzy to get me into the car for dinner plans.

My physical location is one of the few obstacles to my love for the Titans. Living in New Jersey for most of my life, 580 miles separated me from the Titans’ Headquarters; I had never seen the team play in-person. Understandably, when the Titans faced off against the Philadelphia Eagles, I jumped at the chance to attend my first game. The game was a blow-out, yet I somehow persuaded my dad to stay until the bitter end, hoping for a comeback. I have always been certain that the Titans could overcome any deficit. My persistence as a fan certainly was not going to change at my first ever live game. Despite my optimism, the Eagles still beat the Titans by a score of 43 to 24.

After the game, I hustled over to the exit to get a closer look of the Titans’ players as they trotted off the field. I began calling out to each passing player, but my calls were drowned out by the numerous other shouting fans. I nearly gave up hope until a wave of reserve players approached the tunnel. Unlike the other fans who were crowded around the tunnel, I knew their names and numbers. Without other fans to compete against, I managed to snag a jersey and a pair of gloves, which still hang hang framed on my bedroom wall. Regardless of their success or failure, my passion for the Tennessee Titans will always endure. I have learned throughout the years that my love for the team is not a passing interest, but instead it is a passion and a loyalty that has come to define me.

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