Red Boots are Universal

“I love your boots”

This is a comment I had grown used to hearing since the purchase of my red cowboy boots in 2005. I hear it from friends, strangers, and comments on social media posts when wearing them.

My traditional response is to share the story behind this favored purchase.

“I bought them in San Antonio, at the Alamo Bowl after the Huskers beat Michigan. They are my good-luck game-day boots!!”

San Antonio was the beginning of my red-booted adventures. And so, begins their story.

On December 28, 2005, we fled a cold Nebraska winter to cheer on our favorite team, the Nebraska Cornhuskers, in the balmy and fun San Antonio, Texas. Although an Iowa girl, born and raised, I had happily married into a family of lifelong Husker fans. Following suit, I now had three young sons who loved Husker football. It was a treat for us to take the quick drive from Omaha to Lincoln on home game Saturdays to participate in all gameday festivities. We bled Husker red.

Nebraska was playing good football in 2005 with a bowl game an expectation. When San Antonio was announced as the bowl site for the Huskers, we decided to take, Zach, our oldest and a 12-year-old at the time, to his first bowl game.

Mirroring tailgates in Lincoln, San Antonio filled with a sea of red. Many of our friends, family, and neighbors made the trek. By car, plane, or RV, we arrived at the same warm destination forming our Big Red contingent. With a gameday full of tailgate jumping and Husker chants of “Go Big Red!”, we were all thrilled when Nebraska gave us fans a bowl game win.

As the excitement built in the stands with the final seconds of play to a Husker win, I turned to my friend, Robbie, and made my winning proclamation.

“I am buying red cowboy boots to celebrate!”

My mind did not go straight to the celebratory drinks post-game or to purchasing a commemorative 2005 Alamo Bowl win t-shirt. No, instead my brain went straight to thoughts of a new pair of boots.

Fulfillment happened the next day when we found a huge-as-Texas boot warehouse and I bought the last pair of red boots in my size. Score. And so began the journey of my traveling red boots.

I bought the red boots to signify a fun adventure with family and friends. They represented a Husker win that I wanted to memorialize with the wearing of those boots when I attended Husker games with my family. I loved my new red boots. I loved my little family and the fun we had together.

From 2006 to 2008 my red boots were my official uniform for Husker games. I proudly wore them, matched with the correct layers of red and black clothing that were best suited to the weather; shorts weather or winter coats, I wore the boots.

“Love the boots” I heard as I filled my red solo cup at the beer keg.

“Great boots!” were shouts across the NU parking lot as I made my way to the stadium or to a port-o-potty.

If given a compliment within earshot with an opportunity to share, I would gladly tell the origin story of my boots.

“I bought them in San Antonio in 2005 to celebrate the Husker win at the Alamo Bowl! Remember? They beat Michigan that year.”

Sometimes people asked for more details, but most times they responded with a smile. They understood the event behind my boots and thought it a great Husker win story. Everyone in Nebraska speaks the language of their college football team.

I loved Husker gamedays and being a part of the great atmosphere. There was a feeling of community and fun. I would never have envisioned myself living outside of Nebraska. There was no future in my mind that would have my little family broken up and with NU season tickets a fading memory.

Then life happened.

In 2008, I found myself in the world of divorce. A broken family, splitting our belongings, including our Husker season tickets. My ex-husband got the tickets and I upgraded to better seats. Some women impulse-buy jewelry when going through a life crisis. Not me. I buy sweet lower-level football season tickets on the twenty-yard line.

With my family of five down to a family of four, I had a new plan. The four new seats in Memorial Stadium were for me (1) and one for each of my boys (3). These would be our lifetime designated seats. The boys could work out trading tickets among themselves to suit their desired guests as they grew into adulthood. A plan.

As for me, I would be fine with my one ticket. My 2008 life plan was to not date for three years. Instead, I was going to focus on my boys and my career. When I did decide to date (penciled in for 3 years later), it would surely be with another professional career man from Omaha, and obviously a Husker fan. He would likely already have season tickets. Done deal.

And then life happened.

In the middle of the 2009 college football season, my first fall as a single, I met Garrett. He did not live in Nebraska. He did not have NU season tickets. He did join me for a home Husker game or two, which he enjoyed. But Garrett loved my red boots. He loved them so much that I started wearing them outside of NU game day. As Garrett and I took turns flying back and forth from Denver to Omaha, wondering where our long-distance relationship would take us, I started packing my boots.

Surprisingly I continued to get compliments on the boots outside of Husker nation.

TSA worker: “Great boots!”

Hostess at a Mexican restaurant in Denver: “I love your boots!”

Positive reception with my continued wear followed me as the boots traveled with me all over the United States. I joined my boyfriend-turned-husband, Garrett, on business and fun trips all over the country. And I continued to tell the story of buying my boots at the 2005 Alamo Bowl ‘the one where NU beat Michigan’ with enthusiasm.

On a trip somewhere nowhere near Nebraska, someone had just complimented me on my red boots. As they vaguely nodded along, I enthusiastically shared my Husker-win-to-buy-boots back story. Garrett watched this confused interchange. Later he brought clarity to the conversation.

“You know, most people don’t know what NU stands for when you tell this story.”

Garrett was right. Outside of Nebraska, most people had no idea what I was talking about. By this time, I had given up my Husker season tickets with my boys and me living far from Memorial Stadium in Lincoln, Nebraska. My red boots had officially left Husker nation, ultimately landing in a closet in Durango.

When I committed to the season tickets in 2008, my narrative of my future self was far from spot-on. But although the back story of my boots was no longer relevant, the ‘love your boots’ compliments kept coming at the same frequency.

Pairing my red boots with a recently purchased cowboy hat, I attended the Durango rodeo in the fall. Walking into the grandstand, I heard a yell from the upper level. Looking up I saw a woman, dressed in head-to-toe western, yelling at me with an appreciative thumbs up.

“I love your red boots!”

Although older and a bit worn, my boots haven’t lost their red luster. Like my favorite pair of cowboy boots, I am evolving too. The reality in our stories is that they are a work in progress. It is the spirit of us, the main characters, that stay consistent as we weave through our many changing storylines and plot twists. The combination of these is what creates the best stories.

I now share a more abbreviated back story when complimented on my red boots.

“Thanks! I bought them almost 20 years ago in San Antonio. They are great boots!”

My red boots never did represent a physical place or point in time. They represent a spirit of fun and adventure that translates across all languages and all places.

There is no doubt in my mind - red boots really are universal.