This Gator's always in middle of it all

Saturday afternoon should be an unforgettable moment in Gainesville. University of Florida quarterback Tim Tebow plays his final game in The Swamp when the top-ranked Gators face the Florida State Seminoles.

The man who gets to introduce Tebow during UF's senior day, well, he's pumped.

As always.

That pregame voice has been a constant at UF home games in the last quarter-century.

East side, south side, you're the big Orange! West side, north side, you're the big Blue!

He's Richard Johnston, the man with the microphone, Mr. Orange and Blue. From the 80th row, he looks and sounds like a hyperactive student.

Give me an Orange! Orange! Orange! Orange! Orange!

Give me a Blue! Blue! Blue! Blue! Blue!

In reality, Richard Johnston is a 52-year-old bankruptcy attorney with a prestigious law firm - Tampa-based Fowler White Boggs - and Saturdays serve as his high-profile escape from the real world.

"For crying out loud, I'm a ringmaster for 90,000 people," said Johnston, who primarily works from his firm's Fort Myers office. "I get to flip the switch on one of the loudest crowds in college football.

"When I'm out there, it's like wearing a pair of old jeans. I feel comfortable. I know people don't come to see me - hey, I'm just a fan with a microphone - but I love being part of the spectacle."

By the time Mondays roll around, when he's likely back in court somewhere, Johnston is back in a more subdued element. He encounters Gators - attorneys and others - all the time. Some know about his "wild and wonderful hobby." Others don't have a clue.

But when the voice strikes a chord, when they learn the truth, it can be jaw-dropping.

Johnston, a UF law school graduate who was a walk-on swimmer and cheerleader, got the call from the University Athletic Association in 1984. Help us get the crowd worked up, he was told. He was working for an old-line Tallahassee law firm and didn't expect its blessing.

One of the senior partners was a Gator.

"Richard, I think it's a marvelous idea," the senior partner said. "Do mention the firm name and telephone number when you're down there on the field, will you?"

Well, that request didn't work out.

Johnston's presence has been a constant, though. He has not missed a home game in 25 years - there was once a close call due to a hurricane off the coast - and he occasionally dreams about waking up from a long sleep and learning that he missed kickoff.

"That would never happen," Johnston said. "I'm too excitable. I don't need a lot of coffee. I hit the floor running."

Occasionally, there are humorous moments.

Last year, at a bankruptcy hearing, Johnston met another lawyer, a Gator. A colleague chimed in:

"Hey, don't you know who this is? Don't you know what he does?"

"Who is he?"

"He's Mr. Orange and Blue."

"What!"

Just then, the judge entered.

"The guy was dying to ask me about it," said Johnston, who is married to, you guessed it, a Seminole (Tracie Carlson). "But we had to wait a few hours to pick up the conversation."

Like everyone, there was an obvious question.

What's it like, the feeling of being down there, being at the epicenter of all that noise?

"It's a singular moment," Johnston said. "It overwhelms me. Picture 90,000 people behind one thing, screaming as loud as they can.

"When they get a chance to say farewell to Tim Tebow, I can't imagine what it will be like."

But Saturday afternoon, Johnston will know the feeling. He'll be in the middle of it all.

As always.