Growing up, my brother and I spent every other weekend with our Dad. In the fall, Saturdays were for two things: a trip to Amarillo and college football. Sunday’s were for two things, also: Church and professional football. Now my dad was a little different, you have to forgive him. He wasn’t born in these parts. My dad was born in Kentucky, lived in Indiana, and finally arrived in Texas. Saturdays we would watch the Southwest Conference teams battle it out for the Championship, IF and only if, the teams from the Big 10, or possibly the SEC, were not playing.
Being born in Kentucky, my dad took a liking to the Wildcats of the University of Kentucky (having lived in Kentucky for four years, I can tell you from personal experience, you can’t help but get caught up in the madness). Living in Indiana for a few years, my dad took a liking to the Chicago Bears and the Big 10. I never understood his fascination with “da” Bears, I can’t see why anyone wouldn’t root for my favorite team, the Miami Dolphins. I learned a lot on those Saturday and Sunday afternoons, and not a whole lot about football. It was a time Dad would talk and I would listen, soaking up all I could during the time we had together. I can remember in the early 90’s my dad expressing his displeasure with the University of Arkansas and their intentions of leaving the SWC and joining the SEC. He hoped that they would go winless that year (although I remember him using a little more colorful language) for upsetting the balance of power in the college athletics world. That afternoon, I learned about my father’s understanding of loyalty, about his views on college politics (being a college science professor for 27 years he had a lot of views on college politics), and many other topics that we had discussed and would continue to discuss.
My dad couldn’t teach me about all the x’s and o’s of football. He couldn’t go out in the backyard and teach me many of the fundamentals of football. My Dad’s feet were injured during boot camp long before I was born and he couldn’t do many of the things I believe he would have liked to have done when my brother and I were still young and impressionable. But those game times were important in my life, it was time with Dad. It was time he imparted to me things he felt were important and things he felt I needed to know, and learning how to express my own views and opinions.
There have been several days when I have found myself at Nelson Park playing Softball with a group of guys or at the Abilene Soccer Fields with my sons and other parents and children. I will be the first to confess that I don’t know a lot about softball or about soccer. But like the time with my dad, it’s not really about the game. It is about the time spent with others, learning more about them and their beliefs and views, and expressing my own. These are people who I did not know before I started playing softball or helping coach soccer, but now I appreciate them sharing their life with me, even if it is for just a few hours a week on a ball field.
I am looking forward to taking my boys to Bulldog stadium to watch some games, or to Jones AT&T stadium to watch our Texas Tech Red Raiders(who knows where else we may find ourselves), not so much to grow within them a love for football but to have that time with them. Maybe we will talk about the x’s and o’s of football, but maybe we talk about our faith, our views on politics, learn something more about each other.
Who do you share your life with? Who are you able to share your beliefs, your views, your opinions with? If you don’t have a person, a group to do that with, maybe it’s time to take up a hobby or spend some time with others learning to do something new. After all, it’s not really about your new hobby or activity, it’s about adding life and meaning to the existence we have during our time here on earth.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
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