While watching college football this evening, and remembering weekends of my childhood, I thought I would write a blog about my Dad. You see, without him, I would have never known a thing about the game of football. I owe all of my knowledge, my "Football Divaness" if you will, to him.
As far back as I can remember, my Dad and I enjoyed sitting down on cold Chicago Sundays to watch football games. We'd light a fire in the fireplace, grab some drinks and hunker down for a sports-filled afternoon. Most of the time was spent yelling at the television as the Chicago Bears disappointed us again. My earliest memories reflect an incredibly bad Bears team. When Bob Avelini is your only hope to get to the Super Bowl, you best throw in the towel early and hold on ... it's going to be a bumpy ride.
Chicago Bears by Trostle via Flickr
The thing about sitting down with Dad to watch football was that it really wasn't about the game. It was definitely more fun when they won, but losing still meant spending time together. Watching sports meant we got to sit down, just the two of us, and bond. We'd watch. I'd ask questions, and God Bless him, he'd answer every one of them. As an avid fan, today, I realize how great that is. I know lots of women who'd love to learn the game, but no one ever takes the time to explain it. I was a lucky girl! For that I am grateful.
The bond that was created during those cold Sunday afternoons is a bond that has lasted to this day.
I'm happy to say that after many years working in sports, I finally got to show my Dad how much I appreciated the time we spent together, and the knowledge he gave me. I took him to the Super Bowl. I think he's still talking about it today. We went to some NFL parties; I introduced him to a few players (Warning – name dropping ahead). He even had Steve Young and John Elway calling him Dad. He LOVED it. We sat on the 35-yard line, about 20 rows up, and got to see U2 at halftime. Of all the days we spent watching football – that was by far the best!! Being able to do that, meant a lot to me, because it was my way of saying thanks for all he had done. Without him, I would never be where I am today.
If you can relate to this story, take some time to thank your Dad for whatever knowledge he bestowed on you. Did he teach you how to fish? Show you how to dance? Explain to you the nuances of a forty-foot put? Regardless of what is, remember, it's not just the tangible things our parents give us, but the intangible as well.
I love you, Dad!
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