If there's one thing you need to know about me, and my Facebook and Twitter feeds will show this, is I love my boys. Unabashedly, unconditionally, and I will brag constantly on them. I'm proud of them and I don't give a crap what people think about that. My one big regret is that my boys will never know their grandfather.
It's hard to believe, but it will be 11 years in May since my dad died. I am trying to live up to him, hoping he'd be proud of me. You know in The Lion King, when Simba puts his paw in Mufasa's paw print, and it's dwarfed? Yeah, that's how I feel. Like I have some big ass shoes to fill. And believe me, I do. (which is ironic, because my dad had small feet for his height)
When dad died, you know how many people actually saw me break down and cry? Two. Steph, and my mom. The rest of the family I hid it from. They were all in major denial and someone had to be the strong take charge one. Why? Because I know dad would have done the same thing.
My dad was many things, and one of them was a prankster. Gee, wonder where I got that from, eh? He and I would pull shit on each other all the time, often times causing embarrassment to each other. But, it was funny, dammit. This is one of the better ones he pulled on me.
This also happened to be the story I told at his funeral. Giving the eulogy, seeing everyone sad and some in tears, what'd I do? Figured I'd do what dad would have done. Ignore the sad crap and try and lift up everyone's spirit. So, that's what I did.
I was about 16, my girlfriend had just broken up with me, and I was a depressed, sullen teenager. We were coming home from a day at the beach and the surf, and pulled into the Poway, CA Burger King drive thru. We place our order and pull up to the window.
The girl pokes her head out to take the money. She was about the same age, blond and cute. Dad looks at her, looks at me and says, and this is verbatim, "What time do you get off of work? My son's girlfriend broke up with him and he needs a date." She just looked at him, and I tried my damnedest to crawl through the floorboards to hide under the car. She never appeared again. The manager came back to give us our food. We left. My dad looked down at me and just gave me his crooked shit-eating grin. Incidentally, I have the same crooked shit-eating grin, just on the opposite side. Kept copying him as a baby.
So, there it is. One example of how I am who I am because of him. (Jeeze, I sounded like Popeye almost there) Am I going to embarrass my boys? Oh, without a doubt. That's a dad's job. Will they get me back? Yep, because that's their job. And, thus, the Circle of Life continues....
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Friday, January 14, 2011
Decorum and the Fan
Okay, for starters, I'm not a fan. I'm a fanatic. I live and die with my teams. I follow every player on my teams on Twitter that I can find, and will vehemently defend my teams to people. Coyotes have a home game? I'm there. Chargers, Coyotes, Padres or Suns game is on TV? I'll watch it. Chargers aren't on TV? I'll go to Hooters to watch the Chargers. Padres are in town playing the Diamondbacks? I'll go to the games if I can. I'm a fanatic almost to the point of being obnoxious. Well, okay, I am obnoxious.
And that leads me to this. I've said it before, but after the past few home games of the Phoenix Coyotes, I'm going to say it again. Buying a ticket to a sporting event of any kind guarantees the following: The right to a seat. The right to cheer for your team. The right to boo the other team. It does not, however, guarantee you the right to be an asshole.
I'll be honest. I swear. Look at the last sentence. Listen to me when I play XBox online with the guys. Martin Scorsese would blush during those gaming sessions. However, there are places were swearing isn't acceptable, such as around my kids. And, another one of those places is in the stands of a sporting event.
Look, I know emotions run high. The last game against the Toronto Maple Leafs showed that. Ed Jovanovski was blindsided with a cheap shot and went down. Tensions ran high on the ice and in the stands. Spectators around us were swearing up a storm and yelling at each other. All while little kids were around these people, including my two year old son.
People, look around you. Just because your kids aren't there doesn't mean that other kids aren't. When my boys aren't there I still don't swear. Sure, I yell at the refs for lousy calls, but, no swearing. There's no need for it.
At the season opener, the Coyotes played the Red Wings. The Coyotes lost in overtime. As we were walking out, a Red Wings fan saw the dejected look on my older son's face, pointed and laughed. A wave of emotions went through me, none of them good. What'd I do? Bit my lip and kept walking my son up the stairs. Another Red Wings fan, joyous in his team's win, came running down the stairs, against the river of people trying to get out of the arena. He physically shoved my mom out of his way and if I hadn't of moved A.J., he would have done the same to him. What'd I do?
Well, this time I shoulder blocked this guy and got his attention. He started to say something, but I cut him off and basically told him he knocked over a family member and almost did the same to my son. He laughed and told me to do something physically impossible. Again, I bit my lip, turned and walked out with A.J. Later that night on Twitter, I let it out. But not there at the arena. And not in front of kids.
Now, before you think I'm only talking about the visiting fans, I'm not. I'm talking fans in general. There have been plenty of times I've asked Coyotes fans to watch the language in front of the kids. For the most part, people on both sides get what I mean and stop.
Again, emotions run high during sporting events. I get that. But, at some point, you have to be able to gauge your surroundings and act accordingly. Be a fanatic. Cheer, boo, heckle, talk smack, have fun there. Just leave the swearing to the guys playing the game.
And that leads me to this. I've said it before, but after the past few home games of the Phoenix Coyotes, I'm going to say it again. Buying a ticket to a sporting event of any kind guarantees the following: The right to a seat. The right to cheer for your team. The right to boo the other team. It does not, however, guarantee you the right to be an asshole.
I'll be honest. I swear. Look at the last sentence. Listen to me when I play XBox online with the guys. Martin Scorsese would blush during those gaming sessions. However, there are places were swearing isn't acceptable, such as around my kids. And, another one of those places is in the stands of a sporting event.
Look, I know emotions run high. The last game against the Toronto Maple Leafs showed that. Ed Jovanovski was blindsided with a cheap shot and went down. Tensions ran high on the ice and in the stands. Spectators around us were swearing up a storm and yelling at each other. All while little kids were around these people, including my two year old son.
People, look around you. Just because your kids aren't there doesn't mean that other kids aren't. When my boys aren't there I still don't swear. Sure, I yell at the refs for lousy calls, but, no swearing. There's no need for it.
At the season opener, the Coyotes played the Red Wings. The Coyotes lost in overtime. As we were walking out, a Red Wings fan saw the dejected look on my older son's face, pointed and laughed. A wave of emotions went through me, none of them good. What'd I do? Bit my lip and kept walking my son up the stairs. Another Red Wings fan, joyous in his team's win, came running down the stairs, against the river of people trying to get out of the arena. He physically shoved my mom out of his way and if I hadn't of moved A.J., he would have done the same to him. What'd I do?
Well, this time I shoulder blocked this guy and got his attention. He started to say something, but I cut him off and basically told him he knocked over a family member and almost did the same to my son. He laughed and told me to do something physically impossible. Again, I bit my lip, turned and walked out with A.J. Later that night on Twitter, I let it out. But not there at the arena. And not in front of kids.
Now, before you think I'm only talking about the visiting fans, I'm not. I'm talking fans in general. There have been plenty of times I've asked Coyotes fans to watch the language in front of the kids. For the most part, people on both sides get what I mean and stop.
Again, emotions run high during sporting events. I get that. But, at some point, you have to be able to gauge your surroundings and act accordingly. Be a fanatic. Cheer, boo, heckle, talk smack, have fun there. Just leave the swearing to the guys playing the game.
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