I remember when I was little, my aunt would pick me and my brother up and drive us up US1 to Coral Gables, home of the University of Miami Hurricanes. I grew up in a time where the ‘Canes were the alpha of the college football world. From guys like Sean Taylor, Ed Reed, Jonathan Vilma, and Andre Johnson, there was no school that could come close to sending players to the league the way The U did. My aunt would bring us to meet the guys that I looked up to as super heroes. It is not hard to tell that the Hurricanes are my passion. My moods depended largely on wins and losses. In my head, we are going undefeated every single year.

My love for the Hurricanes stemmed from a great appreciation for college football. The rivalries and traditions of the sport branch out to campuses around the country. Everywhere you go, you will find something new and unique to that university and a school they all hate. It does not matter if they are nationally relevant or not. BYU and Utah can both be 1-8, but those two teams and fanbases show up for The Holy War like it is the National Championship. It does not matter if everyone else is watching. It means something to those programs and the people around it. You will not find that in any professional sport. That is just a part of what makes this sport so special to me.

As I am sure you can tell by now, I was born and raised in Miami. The Heat, Dolphins, and Marlins are my teams. I do not intend to focus strictly on Miami sports, but those are my roots and I love my city.

My goal as a writer is to share my passion with you. I want you to feel what I feel when I tell you about my Hurricanes. I want you to understand what I understand when I break down a top five matchup. Ultimately, more than anything else, I want to have fun. I will never claim to be an expert of any sort. My opinions are my own and I will be wrong sometimes. But right or wrong, I am going to have a blast doing this.

– Gabriel Urrutia
I remember my first Miami Hurricanes football game. I had to be 7 or 8 years old and we played Florida A&M and we won by a thousand or something. I was hooked. At the ripe age of 10, I saw Miami beat the crap out of Nebraska to win their fifth national championship. I felt pure elation. 

I also saw the Fiesta Bowl the following year. I saw Miami celebrating. I saw Willis McGahee doing Tostito Chip angels, only for a pass interference* to be called, which ultimately won Ohio State the National Championship*.
I saw Lebron put up the shot, Bosh get the rebound, and Allen BANG it in. I saw Lebron cramp up in San Antonio. I saw Dwyane Wade leave us.
I saw Craig Counsell jump as he crossed home plate, and I saw the fire sale. I saw Josh Beckett tag Jorge Posada and celebrate, and I saw another fire sale.
I saw Dan Marino dominate the gridiron without a running back or defense. I saw him lose his last game 62-7 to Jacksonville. I’ve seen a million QB’s, with Tannehill bringing us a glimpse of hope. I saw his ACL tear right before the playoffs.
I’ve been a Miami fan long enough to feel immense joy and crippling pain. It’s installed a cynicism in me that rivals few others. Even when things are going well, I know something’s ready to go wrong. 
I yell sometimes, I curse a lot. The salt of south beach courses through my veins. I’m excited to talk to you guys. I’m very excited for Sold Out Crowd Sports. Let’s ride.
– Cali Urrutia