We came late to the Lehi fanfest last night, and we didn't win anything. Still so worth it.

Got all the sigs. Photo of my toddler with the cheerleaders. Photo of my boys with Jamaal and his million dollar smile. Mitch Mathews going off on my cute little daughter like he's some baby-hungry BYU coed.

I leaned over and took a photo down the line of all the players and Tejan says, "Hey, did I get in that?" I say, "Oh, it's all about you, right?" and he gives a laugh as big as his arms.

And then Taysom Hill. Like I said, we were late. There were only two people behind us in the line when the event people cut it and wouldn't allow any more. We finally get to Taysom and get the sigs and the pics.

And then he says, "Thanks for waiting for me."

Three thoughts:

(1) He'd been putting up with fans and fankids for almost three hours, and he still made us feel like we were doing him a favor by asking him to sign our posters.

(2) Yes, each one of his thighs is bigger than both of mine put together. And no, that doesn't make me want to offer up a criticism of his throwing motion like some Eeyore-minded CBers. He knows his business.

(3) I'll admit I'm a kool-aid drinker who can't seem to squelch that corner of my head that insists we could possibly go 12-0 every single year. But I came away from this feeling like Taysom had just given his own slogan for the coming year. "Thanks for waiting for me." Meaning: we haven't seen anything yet, and we're in for a very special season.

I'll be in Memorial Stadium on September 5 to watch it all start. My wife will be wearing red beside me (you can take the girl out of Nebraska, but you can't take Nebraska out of the girl). And in my head, as the Cougars line up for the first snap, I'm going to be hearing "Thanks for waiting for me. Now watch this."