Sports, My Dad, And I

Happy Father's Day!

This is the first Father’s Day since I’ve had the site, so I thought what better present than to write something nice about my Dad here that everyone on the weird, wonderful internet can see.

Okay, some may interpret this as me being cheap - no comment - but there’s only so many bottles of wine or random books my Dad can keep in the house.

Don’t worry, Dad, I’ll buy you a few beers next time I see you.

But, for now, sit back, pour yourself your favorite glass of red and make the most of the fact I’m about to say a bunch of nice things about you.

So, the reason I wanted to write something on this site, other than my Dad being great, is the fact that we’ve always shared a deep, deep love of sports.

From as early as I can remember, my Dad loved watching and playing sports and my brother and I were exposed to that passion throughout our childhood. From going to watch our Dad play cricket - and occasionally lose his shit with the umpire - to watching him spend hours playing ‘This Is Football’ - the video game of our childhood - it was no surprise that both my brother and I grew up huge sports fans.

Being born in England, soccer was obviously the biggest focus of our attention and God Bless my Dad because, despite the fact I was beyond crap at any sport I tried and had no athletic ability whatsoever, he still did his utmost to support me and to encourage me no matter what. I remember once he went and splashed the cash on a full Manchester United kit with cleats just so I didn’t look out of place at my first training session. This was despite the fact he probably* knew I’d be picked last and wouldn’t get much use out of the kit or the cleats given I wouldn’t ever be anywhere near the ball.

But that’s just the kind of guy my Dad is.

*He for sure 100 percent knew I’d be no good given he once witnessed me score an own goal by kicking the ball over my own head and into the goal while attempting a goal kick…

By the way, I’m convinced my brother took all the sporting genes from the gene pool.

I’m also still convinced that my Dad is secretly heartbroken neither my brother nor I followed in his footsteps by supporting West Ham. Sorry on that one Dad.

Although, in saying that, I did go to a Hammers game with him once - away at Manchester City - so I did try at least. We even went to a random game at Watford once just for something to do.

As you can see from the picture below, you can see we were clearly invested 😂

But, despite the fact I avoided his bad taste in teams, there’s no denying that I got my unrelenting, unbridled love of sports from my Dad.

Now, for my regular readers and visitors here at Blogs Of Steele, you will know that I am not a soccer fan anymore. I got bitten by the American sports bug years ago and I’ve never looked back, instead dedicating my life to establishing myself as an American sports writer.

And my Dad hasn’t missed a beat throughout that process. Despite knowing absolutely nothing about the sports I love, or not understanding what the hell I am talking about whenever the conversation comes up, he’s still supported me as best as he could.

We’ve watched baseball games together where I’ve done my best to explain the rules in great depth - it is harder than it sounds, trust me - he’s listened (or at least pretended to) whenever I’ve rambled on about hockey or the NFL or how bad my Knicks suck. That latter conversation happens quite a lot. We’re actually going to a baseball game together pretty soon and I can’t wait just to hang out with my Dad, share some hotdogs and a few cold ones and get him really interested in a decent sport for a change.

Sure, I’m pretty certain there’s a part of my Dad who wishes I continued to work in soccer and eventually went and got a job with West Ham or something along those lines, but he has never made that known to me. Instead, he’s always pushed me to follow my dreams no matter what they may be.

Sports, as it is for many families, has played a key role in bringing my Dad and I together at points. It hasn’t been the easiest of times for my family recently and, like any Father-Son relationship throughout history, we’ve had our fair share of ups and downs. However, just being able to talk sports and look ahead to when hopefully my Dad can come and be in attendance at any major sporting events I’m lucky enough to cover has hopefully helped him through the last year or so.

I’ve always loved those conversations and it is my dream to be covering a Stanley Cup Final or a World Series or a Super Bowl one day and then be able to take my Dad for a beer after.

And start paying him back for all the beers he’s bought me over the years.

That would be nice.

No matter what happens, though, I know we will always have sports and I’m lucky enough that we’ve always had sports to help cement the bond we share.

So, thanks for everything Dad and, most of all, thanks for getting me into Sports and giving me the passion to pursue the dream career I’ve always wanted.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad. Have a good one.