I took a course in Romantic poetry last year.
It consisted basically of listening to three separate professors prattle on about Keats & Company’s quest for the (capital S) Sublime.
I didn’t get it.
But Saturday night, when I watched my brother complete a 34-yard dream of a pass with 8.5 seconds left in the fourth quarter to put N.C. State in the lead over Boston College, I think I finally understood what Sublime meant.