To Whom I Owe Everything

It has been a very, very long time since I've been on this blog.  Far too long.  I'm sorry about that, to those few that enjoyed my opinions on sports, or enjoyed laughing at how dumb I sound.  But I'm mostly sorry to myself.  I lost my passion; I lost my way.

I can't say that I've found it again, and I can't call this a comeback really.  I intend to stay on top of this again, but I won't make any promises.

However, I am compelled to post on here again.  Not about how well Michigan has looked lately, or how lethargic State is, or how annoying it is to be a Lions fan, or even that the Pistons suck (big surprise.)  I'm not even compelled by the NHL lockout.  Frankly, I hope they shut down the season.  Mostly cuz I'm bitter about the Winter Classic cuz I HAD TICKETS...

But what did compel me to write this post is what compelled me to be a sports writer in the first place: My Dad.  For those of you that don't know, he passed away two months ago after fighting pancreatic cancer for 18 months.

See what I want to share with you all today is why I love sports and what they mean to me.  For years, ever since grade school I've been known as "the sports guy."  A title I wear with pride.  And that's all thanks to my dad.  From a very young age he got both my brother and I into sports, playing and watching.  They never really stuck with Joe but I was in love!  (Ironic thing is, Joe was a natural athlete, I was not-so...)

But see over the years sports were the greatest form of bonding between me and my father.  We didn't relate on much else.  He was a studious person, very calculated and careful, while I fly by the seat of my pants and take chances... And didn't study that much (natural smarts baby)

But we had sports.  Frankly, that's all we needed.  Some may wish for more from their father, but for me it was more than enough.  Because to some sports are just two teams playing a game and who cares who wins.  For me, sports are much more than that.  Don't get this paragraph wrong, I'm not criticizing my dad at all.  We had a rocky relationship at times but what kid doesn't with their parents?  And I'm not saying all he could do was relate through sports or that's all he cared about, but what I am saying is that he knew that's where our bond was closest.  Whether on the couch watching the Tigers or out on the golf course, it was how we related to each other.

And that's what people who don't watch sports don't understand, the binding power of sports.  I met a man at the Redford grill one day.  He said a lot of things that I agreed with, but only one thing was relevant to this post...  He asked me a question.

"Do you know what brings people together more than anything else?"
I threw out a guess, "Religion."
"No sir.  Sports."

And it's true.  Look at the way the people of New Orleans rallied behind the Saints after Katrina, or the people of New York to the Jets, Giants, Yankees, and Mets after 9-11.  It doesn't matter if the person next to you is white, black, brown, red, purple, pink, male, female, straight, gay, old, young doesn't matter.  All that matters is what team they're pulling for.  For a few hours a day, nothing matters except the result on the field.

And see this brings me back to my main point.  I never felt closer to my dad when things started to get worse than when we were watching Tiger baseball.  Over those 18 months, I watched the Tigers play almost every game with my dad.

He passed away before the magical run.  After he died on September 10th, the Tigers got hot.  I believed he was playing a part in their run.  Call it whatever you want but I felt it.  First they somehow won the division, then beat the A's, then swept the Yankees and there they were in the World Series... I thought it was destiny.  I truly did.

People asked why I was so upset after they got swept.  It was more than just the Tigers losing.  In fact, I really don't care that they lost (I care a little.)  It was the lost connection.  When that final out was made I knew it was over.  I would never feel that close to my dad again.  I didn't want this World Series as a fan, I wanted it as a son who misses his father.  That loss is what hurt the most.

TIme has passed, and I'm not bitter towards the Tigers anymore.  In fact, I'm inspired.  I am back on this blog again because I feel like by losing that passion for sports that I once had I am getting farther away from my dad.  This blog will be dedicated in his memory, and I will try my hardest for him to stay at it.

If you all take one thing away from this make it this:  Sports aren't just a bunch of men playing a game. They're a way for people to bond, come together, unite under one cause.  To call them "stupid," or "childish," is to not see  what is truly happening.  Because like that loud black man at the grill said, nothing brings people together quite like sports.

Thank you all, and goodnight.