Review: I haven't earned that Metallica T-Shirt yet

When I was 12 years old, my Rock N Roll identity was formed in part by the T-Shirts my classmates wore from tours. Of course we hadn't actually seen the shows - they were hand-me-downs or gifts or replicas, but everybody had them. It was a way to share your band with others and it cemented your musical reputation in many ways.

My favorite shirts were always the Metallica ones. You didn't mess with a Metallica fan, because they were the tough 12 year olds. Bon Jovi, Motley Crue, Def Leppard, Poison... their fans were serious too, but those people didn't question authority like those in the Metallica shirts. They definitely didn't rip off the sleeves of the T-Shirt. You were harder, more aggressive, not one to be messed with in your Metallica shirt.

The longevity of those other rock band shirts were as minuscule as the era too. Find me a 25 year old Bon Jovi shirt and I'll question its authenticity.

I wasn't doing such at Sports Authority Field for Metallica on Wednesday night. That whole rule of "don't wear the headliners shirt?" Yeah... that's crap at at a Metallica show. You pull out that Master of Puppets cut off because it leaves no doubt to your fandom, even if it doesn't fit you like it once did.

Those well-worn shirts from multiple tours aged and scaffolded the crowd. Did you know the cuts from Kill Em All? Or were you most excited to hear "Enter Sandman?" True fans respected you regardless, but the unspoken hierarchy of coolness certainly was felt, especially during the 40 minute stay on the concourse during a lightning delay. (Insert your own "Ride the Lightning" joke here... all the tough guys angry at the delay certainly were.)

It was on that concourse, during that delay that I made the decision to buy my first Metallica T-shirt. I loved the new album Hardwired to Self-Destruct. Metallica clearly loved it to, making it an integral part of the early part of their set. A Hall-of-Fame band playing new music early and often, loud and proud? Sign me up, I thought.

But when the show started back up, I was glad I hadn't braved the ridiculously long lines for my own tee. As the night wore onto a near-midnight finale of fireworks and pyro, I came to terms with the fact Metallica is not only way cool, they're also not my band. I don't know the lyrics, the videos, the scene like I should. I had to cheat on Setlist.fm to even know that the encore was "Fight Fire with Fire" because my ears just couldn't distinguish it from other songs they'd played.

I thought I knew Metallica as a casual fan. I know now I was wrong. This stadium tour Is a kick-ass time: Kirk Hammett proved over and over how melodic metal guitar can be, the pyro during "Moth into Flame" was unique and beautiful, I felt like a soldier during the epic "One," watching James Hetfield leapfrog from microphone stand to microphone stand across the enormous stage reminded me of Frogger and was every bit as awesome, and a day later and I still feel the pounding Lars Ulrich gave me from his drum kit.

I appreciated it all and loved some of it. But sometimes, you just have to tip your hat to those who've come before. I know my place and I didn't earn that Metallica T-Shirt just yet. It's clothing for the die-hard, for the weathered, for the guy who can complete Hetfield's sentence before he finishes it. That Metallica T-Shirt isn't a symbol of fandom or an image to uphold; it's a lifestyle, a community, and a battle wound - especially for that one guy out of 52,000 who was wearing a St. Anger shirt.

I'm just not there yet. Just ask the lady (one of the few) sitting in front of me in section 115 who told me so when I named my favorite Metallica song. Sad But True.