two items, though i was an athlete throughout high school, these moments are sometime before then..
in my younger football days (10 yrs old?).. i was playing DE, got thru, sacked the QB in a crucial drive, caused a fumble and my team recovered. my teammate who recovered went celebrating off the field and the coaches/team thought he had also caused the fumble. i walked off the field a bit dazed with a broken finger . walked over where my dad was standing and he knew it was me who created the havoc. he popped my finger back in place , dumped his coke and we used the cup of ice to stop the swelling. it was a quiet moment between dad and son. neither of us felt the need to announce to the coaches that i had made the big hit or that i was hurt. we just had one of those moments and all i needed to know was that my dad knew... and he did.
in younger baseball days... i had recieved a game ball from coaches a game before the one we were playing. the coaches were giving a game ball to a new guy each game. in this particular game we were playing the next skill level team above us.. the "A" team. we were "B" team. We lost 14-9 in a rout, but i had all nine RBI including a grandslam. after the game, the coaches gave a game ball to someone who hadn't gotten one yet. when the game was over and guy were going home .. a few teammates sought me out and gave me a ball of their own. it was a just a dirty old foul ball they found under the bleachers... but they wanted me to have it. i still have it of course and it means more than any othet trophy or what have you.
glory days. yea, they'll pass you by... glory days
in my younger football days (10 yrs old?).. i was playing DE, got thru, sacked the QB in a crucial drive, caused a fumble and my team recovered. my teammate who recovered went celebrating off the field and the coaches/team thought he had also caused the fumble. i walked off the field a bit dazed with a broken finger . walked over where my dad was standing and he knew it was me who created the havoc. he popped my finger back in place , dumped his coke and we used the cup of ice to stop the swelling. it was a quiet moment between dad and son. neither of us felt the need to announce to the coaches that i had made the big hit or that i was hurt. we just had one of those moments and all i needed to know was that my dad knew... and he did.
in younger baseball days... i had recieved a game ball from coaches a game before the one we were playing. the coaches were giving a game ball to a new guy each game. in this particular game we were playing the next skill level team above us.. the "A" team. we were "B" team. We lost 14-9 in a rout, but i had all nine RBI including a grandslam. after the game, the coaches gave a game ball to someone who hadn't gotten one yet. when the game was over and guy were going home .. a few teammates sought me out and gave me a ball of their own. it was a just a dirty old foul ball they found under the bleachers... but they wanted me to have it. i still have it of course and it means more than any othet trophy or what have you.
glory days. yea, they'll pass you by... glory days