In four weeks, Ryan Mercer and I will sit on opposite sides of the Superdome — in our respective team’s colors — rooting on our schools to bring home a Sugar Bowl trophy.
Two weeks before that, Ryan, 26, will stand next to me at my wedding after embarrassing himself the night before giving a toast that will almost assuredly be centered around this college football game.
Ryan and I went to high school in North Carolina together. The last time our two teams played each other, neither of us were alive. The next time they were supposed to play, we would have been 36.