1993 was also my first year at Western, and yes, you'll have to slog through this... I was in love. She was a girl I had known for two years in high school, and we worked closely together on the school paper (NERRRRRRDS!). We became good friends, and a big chunk of the reason I went to WWU was to follow her there. I was already crazy about her before we left for Bellingham, but once we got there, as two dorks from the Tri-Cities, we hung onto each other for dear life. We ate at her dorm's dining hall every night. I would watch TV in her dorm room with her all the time (including Star Trek TNG every Saturday night... NERRRRDS!).... We spent 3-4 hours a day together.
Alas, I was Toby Flenderson to her Pam Beesly... We were "best friends," but of course that wasn't what I wanted... and being an 18-year-old dipshit, I had some weird ways of trying to woo her.
Like taking her to a Seahawks game.
I invited her to the Seahawks/Patriots game at the dome... It was October of 1993 and Kurt Cobain was still alive (in fact, Nirvana had released the amazing In Utero just a month before... it would become the soundtrack of my freshman year at Western), as were the Seahawks chances of a competitive season.
Drew Bledsoe's homecoming wasn't to be... With #11 out with an injury, Scott Zolak faced the Seahawks. But even with that advantage, the Hawks trailed 9-3 late in a very boring game. I was in a near-panic that she wasn't having a good time, and this whole thing was a very bad idea.
Suddenly, Rick Mirer was doing his best Joe Montana impression. He drove us down the field, and with only seconds to play, threw the winning touchdown pass. The crowd went batshit crazy... even my lady friend got into it, and I got a nice prolonged, semi-passionate hug out of it. At that moment, the future was ablaze with possibilities, both for the Seahawks and my personal life. The Hawks were 4-3, and Rick Mirer was going to lead Seattle to football glory.
That 4-3 start turned into a 6-10 lead turd of a season. That game was the high point of Mirer's career... It was all downhill after that.
A couple of months later, my best friend started dating someone. I told her I was in love with her. Crash. Burn. Despair.
So everything turned to shit.
But it was through those setbacks that a better future was forged. Without the crappiness of the early-90s, we would have never gotten Holmgren, Hasselbeck, etc. We were able to get Walter Jones as a result of trading Mirer to Chicago in '97, so things turned out OK.
After things fell apart with my best friend, I had to venture out and find new friends, and those are a lot of the people I am closest to, even 15 years later. If I would have ended up with her, I would have never moved out to Ohio, met my wife or had my awesome, kick-ass son Jack.
I'm not one of those "everything happens for a reason" folks, but sometimes fortune does break in favor of those who keep persevering... or something.