My father was determined to do better with Josh and for a large part of my brother’s infancy he was a stayed at home. My brother and father would grow to be really close.
It’s the reason Josh loves sports. They would stay home all day together watching any game they could. When I was his age and he wasn’t around, so I grew up hating sports.
I’ve always found sports boring. A bunch of dudes running around in their matching outfits chasing balls, risking neurological damage – to pursue contrived victory.
I never got into it. But to each his own.
That’s only one possible reason I don’t like sports. The first football game I ever went to, I was taken to by my Dad and Uncle Jackie. These Friday night lights happened to be on Friday the 13th.
My Dad took me to the concession stand in between plays. Everything was loud and chaotic. I looked up to tell him I didn’t want ketchup on my hot dog, but he was gone.
The lights, the announcers, the whistles. It all seemed to swirl around my head. What couldn’t have been more than 2 minutes felt like an hour. I was so short people couldn’t see me. They kept bumping into me. Someone burnt me with a cigarette on my cheek. I fell and the crowd didn’t seem to notice. I didn’t cry. I was too disoriented to even think.
Just then a teenage girl rescued me. What had to be the prettiest woman I’d ever laid eyes on, reached down and picked me up, like an angel from heaven. I hugged her like I’d known her forever.
I wish I knew her name and could find her on Facebook. She’s probably still hot. I’d have the best DM dive intro ever, but back to the story.
She took me away from the crowd and towards the fence against the field. She asked me where my parents were. I almost didn’t want to find them. I would have rather stayed with her.
Eventually my Dad and Uncle came looking for me and found me with her. They overlooked how distraught I was and laughed because they found me a pretty girl. They joked and said I did it on purpose. I didn’t see the humor in it, even if there was truth to it.
My dad paid for the girl’s hot dogs and sodas, and thanked her for her help. She smiled and gave me another hug. She said I was the cutest thing she’d ever seen. The feeling she gave me can only be described as love.
When we got back to our seats my Dad still had jokes.
“I didn’t know you liked the white girls” he said.
That was the first time anyone ever gave me that critique, but it wouldn’t be the last.