I Didn’t Stop Loving it. I Just Didn’t Know How to Be With It Anymore.

“Tradition is not the worship of ashes, but the preservation of fire.” - Gustav Mahler

It happened without ceremony. No dramatic goodbye. No formal drift. Just a quiet season where I stopped turning on the game.

And for a long time, I thought maybe I just didn’t care anymore.

But that wasn’t it.

The truth is:

I didn’t stop loving it. I just didn’t know how to be with it anymore.

1. The Love Was Never Just About the Game

It started with my parents. My mom’s pride. My dad’s spark. Football was a language they both spoke fluently, and I listened in.

It was the first time I remember seeing my dad truly elated - and I paid attention.

It became family tradition, southern roots, and ritualized joy. It became us.

2. I Drifted When Everything Else Did

I stopped watching in 2020. The year we were robbed of a playoff spot. The year I was in a relationship that didn’t last. The year the world changed, and so did I.

Notre Dame played half their games and still got in. A&M had one of our best seasons ever, and we were left behind.

So much about that time felt unfair.
Not just in football. In life.

My routines unraveled.
My joy scattered.
And the traditions that once grounded me no longer had a place to land.

I didn’t walk away bitter. I just… stopped showing up.

3. I Haven’t Stopped Loving It - I Just Lost the Shared Rhythm

Watching alone started to feel heavy. Alumni events in strangers’ homes felt intimidating. And the silence around something I once loved became louder than any fight.

Maybe I was waiting for it to feel like family again. And if it couldn’t… maybe I wasn’t sure if I was still allowed to love it.

But here’s what I’m remembering:

You’re allowed to love what once loved you back.
Even if it looks different now.
Even if you love it quietly. Or alone. Or slowly, again.

4. Sparked by Joy

The other day, I got to talk about Texas A&M with someone at work. Our coach. Our mascot. Our traditions. And in that conversation, I lit up.

I laughed about the stress of being an Aggie. Talked about our overpriced ex-coach Jimbo Fischer. Our ups and downs. I felt like me again.

And I realized: Maybe I didn’t lose it. Maybe I just paused.

And maybe I’m ready to press play again.

Because I didn’t stop loving it. That love still knows how to find its way home.