Oh, Michael! I'm sorry you're a member of the Crappy Childhood Club. You grew into an excellent adult, and I'm really sorry you had to do that work. But I'm glad you have this football-related memory with your mom. It's good to hold onto to those.
Thanks, Melissa. Some day, we can compare notes about how we both turned out to be pretty good eggs. I might write more about the later years I had with my mom. Although getting personal like this on Substack feels a little...exposed. LOL
Our childhoods were similar but not. Sports were never a part of my vernacular and honestly I’ve never understood the attraction (or the power).
Now, for the first time, thanks to this article, I understand a little bit better. It’s not the game or the team. It’s the connection. It’s having something pure and unencumbered to root for, to love, to build a bond with others.
It was your lifeline.
Thanks for helping me learn something new today. I might be a little more understanding toward those who tie up part of their identity in sports. It’s NOT just a game.
Thanks for the kind words, Mike, and for reading. My dad actually made me play football until I put my foot down as a sophomore and said I wouldn't play anymore. Yet, I still loved the Broncos.
Michael, thanks for sharing these memories although difficult. I grew up in Denver and share those same high and lows of the Broncos! At least they seem to be headed in the right direction again. Safe travels and I love following along with your adventures.
For our family, it was the Dallas Cowboys — even when we lived in and around New York (before ever living in Texas). It’s always been the Cowboys and always will be.
Funny how a sport can transport everyone to the same memory, the same electric pulse, no matter what else is going on. Nothing else bridges generations or fractures quite like that.
Thank you for sharing such a personal, powerful piece — it reminded me how football isn’t really about the game. It’s about who you’re watching it with.
You put the love you felt for your mother into this beautiful piece. I’m glad you can remember her for more than the bad memories.
Thank you very much, Claire.
Oh, Michael! I'm sorry you're a member of the Crappy Childhood Club. You grew into an excellent adult, and I'm really sorry you had to do that work. But I'm glad you have this football-related memory with your mom. It's good to hold onto to those.
Thanks, Melissa. Some day, we can compare notes about how we both turned out to be pretty good eggs. I might write more about the later years I had with my mom. Although getting personal like this on Substack feels a little...exposed. LOL
Oh, I think we have plenty to discuss over some cocktails ;-)
Children all over the world aren't so different after all.
That's definitely a lesson I've learned on our travels.
Our childhoods were similar but not. Sports were never a part of my vernacular and honestly I’ve never understood the attraction (or the power).
Now, for the first time, thanks to this article, I understand a little bit better. It’s not the game or the team. It’s the connection. It’s having something pure and unencumbered to root for, to love, to build a bond with others.
It was your lifeline.
Thanks for helping me learn something new today. I might be a little more understanding toward those who tie up part of their identity in sports. It’s NOT just a game.
Thanks for the kind words, Mike, and for reading. My dad actually made me play football until I put my foot down as a sophomore and said I wouldn't play anymore. Yet, I still loved the Broncos.
Beautiful.
Thank you very much, Kim.
❤️❤️❤️
Thank you for this lovely story!
Thanks for reading.
Love this 💙
Thanks, Jennifer. It was a bit weird to write. LOL
It’s lovely. I’m so glad to have read it. This kind of writing reaches people who need it. (Me!) 😉🥰
🥰🥰🥰
Thank you so much for sharing this. I know it's deeply personal, and that's why it's valuable.
Michael, thanks for sharing these memories although difficult. I grew up in Denver and share those same high and lows of the Broncos! At least they seem to be headed in the right direction again. Safe travels and I love following along with your adventures.
For our family, it was the Dallas Cowboys — even when we lived in and around New York (before ever living in Texas). It’s always been the Cowboys and always will be.
Funny how a sport can transport everyone to the same memory, the same electric pulse, no matter what else is going on. Nothing else bridges generations or fractures quite like that.
Thank you for sharing such a personal, powerful piece — it reminded me how football isn’t really about the game. It’s about who you’re watching it with.
Sending you lots of love, Michael!