Life carries with it a series of firsts.

From the time we enter this world, it seems like it's one new thing after another.

People tend to remember their first day of school, first kiss or where they were when a national event took place.

As I knock on the door of my 30s, I realize the firsts just keep on coming.

Last Friday, Cascade rallied back a couple times at No. 3 Summertown to punch their ticket to the Spring Fling. It was an emotional roller coaster to say the least.

Zack Hill put down a textbook tag after harnessing a Corey Mullins scud from center to end things.

The resulting celebration was tough to capture in my plastic picture machine. I went down to my knees to try to get Mullins leaping in front of the scoreboard. Never realized it would be awhile before I could get up.

I didn't get blindsided by an enthusiastic adolescent. No, my lachrymal glands went into overdrive. That is to say that the emotion of my family reaching a pinnacle previously thought to be untouchable made my view blurry and nose runny.

My family extends beyond the kid in the coach's box at third base or the rowdy, salt-n-pepper haired man in the stands. In fact, everybody in orange and black that day in Lawrence County I consider to be my very own.

So should you. No matter what part of Bedford County each of these kids came from, they are all your sons and daughters. No matter the colors they grace or the letter on their hat, they represent you as they sprint onto the diamond in Murfreesboro to take on the best of the best of the best.

See, when I pull up in my driveway or open the door to my house, I don't see a shadow of myself running to jump in my arms. When I bed down at night, I don't have a soul mate beside me to inquire about my great day. Our local kids feel like my own and their coaches resemble brothers and sisters.

In my final two years of high school, our team won a total of 53 games. We even made it to the round of 8 my senior year. Alabama doesn't share the same spectacular venue at that point that Tennessee does though. Apparently their spring doesn't fling.

I remember my teammates trying to console one another as reality set in and the tears came following elimination. I tried to strike up some flow out of my ducts as well but the lack of emotion never came. Something was missing.

That was not the case after the rally versus Summertown. It felt like I was getting a taste of what parents and coaches are referring to when they say it's always better when your kids win. I don't have any critters or carry a whistle but have been around the local teams long enough now to know them all by nickname.

If "Bird, TyBo, Sticks and MoMo" can help guide the Champions to four more victories, then get the tissue out. It won't be an easy path to get there. But, is anything great and worth doing ever simple?

If earning a ring came that easy, then someone local besides a vast group of Golden Eaglettes would have 'em. This ride breeds respect for their work and makes you want to angle some strobe lights on their banners.

The drive over to Siegel High School for today's and tomorrow's games is right around 33 miles. It's $7 to get in, and they are charging for parking on campus. But, if you bring me some Kleenex for me on Friday, I'll pay you back.