The first time you experience something, taste something new, cheer with strangers, or feel, even for a moment, like you belong.
Our first American football game. Jacksonville Jags vs. the Baltimore Ravens. We didn’t have a clue what was going on. The rules were foreign, the plays confusing, 1 hour of play in 4 hours … but the energy? Electric. We dressed up, ate giant hot dogs, and screamed like locals… sometimes at the wrong moment. By the end, we were yelling “DEFENSE!” like we’d grown up on it.
Then came our first airshow. The U.S. Navy Blue Angels soared above us in formation and it was like the sky cracked open in awe. I have never experienced anything like it in my life. You don’t forget the sound of pride echoing through the sky.
We saw our first baseball game with our local team, the Jacksonville Jumbo Shrimps. Fireworks, mascots, suger coated anything and everything, and then of course the corndogs (I could easily forget).
There’s a crazy rhythm here, a confidence and pride in how things are done. From the anthem to the oversized everything, it’s unapologetically American. And it pulls you in.
I am not sure we had an idea what we were looking for here. But we found magic… in stadiums, under fireworks, in song lyrics, and fried food.
It’s the firsts that stick with you.
