I looked down at my ticket for the hundredth time. The Waterboy. First time I had ever paid to see an Adam Sandler movie, and I couldn't have been more excited.

The lights went down, and the green screen popped up. Acting on instinct, everyone in the theater said the exact same thing at the exact same time:

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.


It was a Tuesday in November, and the weather, as always, sucked. Cold, grey, no leaves left on the trees but no snow yet on the ground. Chicago can be depressing this time of year. I had the family car for the day, which meant that I had to pick up my younger brothers from school. Then I had to watch them until my parents got home. Not such a big deal, but it meant I couldn't go anywhere.

On a normal day, I wouldn't have cared. But that morning, or maybe the night before, I had read something online... on TheForce.net, no doubt. I read how The Trailer was being released on Friday (this was old news), but in a few select theaters around the country, for one day only, they'd be showing it early. That day was Tuesday. Today.

The Trailer was, of course, for The Movie. The one I'd been waiting for since I was a kid. The one I first heard would be released in the early 90's. Then it became May 15th, 1997 (at least according to the liner notes of my Empire Strikes Back soundtrack, which I read over and over and over again). Then the Special Editions were announced, and the magic date got pushed back a couple more years. Then, somehow, it actually started to happen. Actors got cast. Artwork was released. A title was announced: The Phantom Menace.

Everyone knew what was coming next. A trailer, probably around Thanksgiving. So when I read that I could potentially see it early... well, you must understand, three extra days suddenly seemed like a very long time. I had waited long enough.

But I still had to pick up my brothers.

They climbed into the back seat and put on their seatbelts. Or maybe they didn't buckle up. I wasn't paying much attention. I was nineteen years old. They were thirteen, and nine.

I drove for a few minutes before I couldn't take it anymore.

"Hey, you guys wanna go see something really cool?"

No response. They were probably trying to figure out if I was setting them up to be punched.

"They're showing the Star Wars trailer at a theater downtown," I continue, "it's one of only fourteen theaters showing it today. Wanna go?"

I don't know if they really understood everything I said, but they happily agreed.

By the time we got downtown, it was already dark outside. Incredibly, I got street parking not too far from the theater, which was housed in a tall corner building.

Inside, there was no line at the ticket counter, but the lobby was much more crowded than you'd expect for a Tuesday afternoon. We skipped concessions and headed straight to the actual theater, which was surprisingly small -- probably 150 seats or so. We got good seats, right in the middle of the center row. People poured in steadily around us. I wondered how many of them were there for the same reason...

I got my answer when that green Preview screen came up.

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.


You've all seen The Trailer... I imagine many of you, like me, watched it until you had it memorized. But it's worth noting that the first shot, the first moment of real Star Wars footage since 1983, was of Gungans. The Gungan army, to be more precise, coming through the morning mist on their way to battle. That's what it felt like to be in that theater. We were emerging from a fifteen-year fog.

120 seconds later, it was over. And the crowd went NUTS. We cheered, clapped, yelled as loud as we could. A couple of guys stood up, pumped their fists, then left the theater. The rest of us stayed in our seats. We knew what was coming.

But first, we had to sit through The Waterboy. I'm not a comedy snob (clearly), but wow, there was not one laugh in that entire movie. Plus, Adam Sandler's imbecilic accent (I'm not being cruel here... he really played an imbecile) made the film nearly intolerable. Thankfully, I've forgotten 99% of it by now.

The movie ended, and nobody clapped. But we all stayed in our seats, waiting patiently until the very last credit rolled... and that fateful green screen popped up once again.

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

The Trailer was, somehow, even better the second time around. The sights and sounds seemed to last a bit longer. Afterwards, we all cheered and applauded just as loudly as before, and there were more than a few calls to "Play it again!" No such luck. But we all left the theater on a definite high.

On the drive home, heading North on Lake Shore Drive, I kept replaying the images in my head. Everything was so different, so creative, so promising... and so distinctly Star Wars. It was exhilarating and confusing at the same time. It was a lot to process.

And for the next few days at school, my brothers had ultimate bragging rights.


Since then, I've had ten years worth of great Star Wars memories. I've watched the films on everything from VHS to IMAX, and have been lucky enough to attend midnight screenings, media screenings, even a premiere. But nothing beats those two thrilling minutes on a November afternoon, when my brothers and I escaped the Chicago cold and returned to that Galaxy Far, Far Away... and knew, without a doubt, that Star Wars was back.