I was in third grade when he led us to the Independence Bowl, and my dad took me to Shreveport, leaving my mom to watch my little brother.
Man I was super excited, because Cats. It was cold as crap, and we played Wisconsin, so naturally we got our butts kicked. The only highlight I remember is when we scooped up a muffed punt and took it in for a touchdown. Of course, that got called back.
I still have a flag my dad bought me that day.