I was in Phoenix in 1986 when the Miami Hurricanes and Penn State arrived for the Fiesta Bowl, which would decide the national championship. My parents then pastored a United Brethren church in Fountain Hills, next door to the Fiesta Bowl, and I was “home” for Christmas. Both teams were undefeated, but Miami was the overwhelming favorite.

The classy Penn State players arrived wearing suits and ties. Meanwhile, Jimmy Johnson’s Hurricanes swaggered off the plane wearing combat fatigues. It struck me as tasteless, and totally turned me off.

What a joy to watch Penn State win 14-10. Miami got their comeuppance from a team with the most boring uniforms in college football. And 30 years later, I still desire comeuppance.

That 1986 Fiesta Bowl display forever soured me on all Florida college football. I never root for Florida, Florida State, or Miami. I put them all in the same box–arrogant, and in need up a good whupping. Not even Tim Tebow can redeem Floridian football in my mind.

I know it’s irrational, like saying all Muslims are terrorists. But that’s how my mind works. And please, at my advanced age of 59, don’t try to convince me otherwise.