My father is a bit of a pessimist fan - not only is he a little reserved in his nature, but he sort of likes to play it cool compared to me & my mother, who are unabashed homers.
I went home to watch Super Bowl 42 with them. I'll never forget the pass from Eli to the sideline that should've been picked by Asante, that should have been the game-ender. There was a brief moment where it looked like Asante had it...because he damn well should have, because it was just about the easiest interception you could make. In that brief moment, my father stood up from his seat and screamed yes with an exuberance I'd never seen from him watching sports. I knew that the pass had slipped through Asante's hands, but he didn't. Nonetheless, I'll never forget that affirmation that he absolutely did truly care as much as we did.
Obviously, in hindsight, it's a tough memory.