On Saturday, a six-year-old youngster named Brett Baxter probably had one of the single greatest moments in his young existence.
You see, Brett, like most Nebraska boys his age, runs around his Omaha backyard in his red jersey tossing a football to himself. One day he's Eric Crouch. One day he's Keyuo Craver.
Following Saturday's Red-White game, little Brett was easy to spot. He was hoisted on his father's shoulders above a mob of red-shirt crazies.
Most of these crazies were autograph hungry kids mixed with a few overgrown children, adults in any other setting. The crazies screamed at every Husker football player who walked through the roped-off South Stadium path to the locker room.
Brett and his father, Roger, had their camera ready, set to capture a quick Norman Rockwell portrait of one of their football heroes.
They screamed as quarterback Jammal Lord glided towards them. But Lord was quickly intercepted by a pack of fans.
Seeing that Lord was a no go, Brett set his eyes down the path. Brett and his dad's eyes grew wide, as they both seemed to simultaneously spot running back Dahrran Diedrick.
"Dahrran," Brett's father yelled. Too late. Diedrick was already being gang tackled by pen-holders with programs.
Dad wasn't about to go home empty handed. The elder Baxter scanned the oncoming players, recognizing a big guy wearing a white No. 21 jersey.
"Hey Robin," Roger yelled at Nebraska running back Robin Miller. "Can we get a picture?"
Miller smiled, and then proceeded to make a little kid's day, flexing his right bicep while smiling into the camera.
"Awesome," Brett said to his dad as Miller walked away into the locker room.
"You can't do this at any other game," Roger Baxter said after his conquest. "That's what makes the Red-White game so special - the interaction between the fans and players."
There is a love affair between Nebraska fans and the football program. This is why 30,414 people came and watched an exhibition game in which one of the starting quarterbacks (Lord) wasn't even allowed to be tackled.
And the players seem to recognize their importance to the state, returning the love. This is why departed Husker Carlos Polk, who could've been shooting craps in Las Vegas with his soon to be wealth of NFL dollars, could be found Saturday in the south end zone, signing autographs on anything passed before him.
Polk signed jerseys, programs, roster sheets, human flesh. ...
In the north end zone, reserve wide receiver Matt Plooster tried to talk with friends and family after the game, but kids who didn't even know who he was gathered around him for a quick signing.
"It's really gratifying," said Plooster, who is from Malcom. "I remember when I was one of these kids."
In the next moment, Plooster caught the eye of a big-eyed little boy whose No. 30 jersey served as more of a dress on his tiny body then a shirt.
The little boy held out a dollar bill he wanted Plooster to sign.
Plooster smiled. "Awesome," he said.
Funny. That's exactly what little Brett said.
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