See that adorable little guy above?
That’s me. It really is. You can ask my mother. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to take on the world. Or ride my pedal tractor around, or whatever. You’ll also notice the shirt I’m wearing. In 1992, I came out of the hospital wearing something that looked kind of like it. I was truly born a Cyclone. My father graduated from there and my mother is a rare breed, one of the few remaining Panther-Clones.
My entire up-bringing was filled with the Cyclones. Watching them on TV or listening to them on the radio.