The memory is hazy now. All I can see is Paul Justin’s pass spiraling some 40 yards through the air as the crowd rises to its feet and an Arizona State receiver streaks downfield under the Sun Devil Stadium lights. Catch, run, roar. That’s how it all began for me — a 7-year-old boy, Red Vines and a Paul Justin bomb detonating on a Saturday night in Tempe, Ariz. My father passed away a few years before that, the victim of a fatal heart attack at the age of 38.