Sunday, February 3, 2013

Good Morning Justin...

Letter to My Son
Sunday, February 3
Good Morning Justin…

It’s Super Bowl Sunday.  I think I will root for the Ravens this year.  I figure any team that can beat Tom Brady and the Patriots in their home stadium during the play offs, deserves to win it all and probably will.  That’s my guess, anyway. 

I was a high school student working as a dishwasher in a cafeteria on the day of the first NFL-AFL championship game between Kansas City and Green Bay.  It wasn’t yet the national spectacle it is today.  In fact the Los Angeles Coliseum was half empty that Sunday as the Packers handily beat the old American Football League Chiefs.  It took flamboyant quarterback Broadway Joe Namath and his New York Jets to upset heavily favored Baltimore to make the game a celebrated event.  It was no longer just a championship game in sports.  It had truly become the Super Bowl. 

If I watch the game today it will be the first Super Bowl I’ve seen since Ely Manning and the New York Giants first beat New England a few years back.  I’ve lost track of football and sports, in general.  Narrowing my time to interests most important to me is probably a natural part of aging.  I never decided to turn off sports.  My vitality as a fan merely slipped away.  Don’t get me wrong.  I don’t see myself old and decrepit.  I’m just changed.

Life has stages.  Yours is Starting Out and with great vigor.  We could just as easily call it the Hurrah! stage as that would truly fit you.  One of my great memories of you was your first game in Little League – T-Ball to be exact.  You were placed at Short Stop but when the ball rolled past the First Baseman into Right Field you could be seen running full speed after it.  Somehow the concept of just watching something didn’t make sense to you.  After the play the coach came out to remind you your position would be Short Stop.  In your heart, though, you knew he must be kidding and you continued scrambling after the ball no matter where it was hit.  You had two strong legs, stout heart and great desire to always be in the center of the action.  You’ve since learned to play your position but you remain for me that kid, always chasing action like the wind.


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