As it turns out, that whole “Last Column” claim last week was a false alarm. After much begging and pleading with the sports editorial staff…I mean after they asked me to write another… I decided to pass on some advice.

Live and die with your Alma Mater.

Some of you may be rolling your eyes saying “Duh,” but it’s more complicated than that.

I didn’t have parents who were Illinois alumni; therefore, I didn’t grow up an Illini fan. I was raised a Golden Domer, took in some Northwestern football during the Wildcats’ mid-’90s hey-day and pretty much neglected any athletic action south of Bourbonnais.

In fact, prior to my senior year of high school, I purchased a copy of ESPN The Magazine with Kurt Kittner on the cover.

I took one look, said “I’m an Illini.” I didn’t feel that pride and joy I expected.

Here I was, at a school I didn’t know I wanted to be at, upset I wasn’t playing football anymore, and, worst of all to me, uninspired by the teams I would be rooting for during the next four years.

Would there be a conversion? What would it take?

A lot.

It took starting with an unexpected offensive juggernaut on the gridiron and ending with an unexpected flirtation with perfection on the hardwood.

It took Brandon Lloyd playing to the crowd and laying out for the ball every time he could.

The fireworks to wake me up after a long Friday night to see us squeak by Northern Illinois.

Every Eugene Wilson interception.

Rocky Harvey’s dive across the goal line to beat Penn State.

The patented two-handed pump fake from Kurt Kittner and every one of his deep balls that seemed like poetry in motion.

Every Lucas Johnson floor burn and screw-up by Robert Archibald.

It took every Cory Bradford and Sean Harrington three-pointer.

A drive by Frank Williams against Minnesota.

A quarterback battle between Heisman candidates….I mean starting candidates Jon Beutjer and Dustin Ward.

It took an 82-yard run by Antonieo Harris, a kickoff return off a reverse and overtime to comeback to beat Purdue.

A John Gockman field goal left inches short.

A game the referees blew in overtime against soon-to-be National Champion Ohio State.

Total domination of North Carolina in the ACC-Big Ten Challenge.

Brian Cook lighting up Michigan and being a class act and Illinois legend.

It took a dismal 1-11 football season.

It took proving all the doubters wrong by winning 12-straight conference basketball games.

Deron going off against Cincinnati and coming thisclose to beating Duke.

Kelvin Hayden’s athleticism, coming so close against Purdue and Michigan, a trick play to make Beutjer’s last stand against Indiana victorious and the close-to Ron Turner’s farewell tour at Northwestern.

It took Zook-mania.

It took the greatest backcourt in college basketball history.

Every Deron pass, Dee sprint and jersey pop, Luther steal, Augie throw-down, Roger point-to-the sky, Jack clutch play, Nick outside jumper and Warren Carter chant.

It took dominating Gonzaga, breaking Wisconsin’s streak, embarrassing Michigan State, winning the Big Ten for Dawn Weber and shutting up Bruce Pearl.

It took me hugging people I didn’t even know in a Tinley Park bar after we beat Arizona.

It took seeing the tears flow after losing to the Tar Heels.

And it took Bruce Weber being my role model, sticking it to Dick Vitale and Bill Self and raising his fist with the faithful to know I was an Illini.

It wasn’t just these moments from basketball. Attending other sports and covering the women’s soccer and men’s hockey teams have given me a greater appreciation for my school and sadly, leave me wanting more.

It was four years in the making, but finally I am a full-blown, can’t-miss-a-minute, tape-every-game, memorize-every-stat Illini fanatic.

I am converted.

I may be done.

But now, I will always bleed orange and blue.