Me and My Kids


Maybe it’s because of the area and our longstanding heritage but, guys, I’ve always been a Boston Celtic and Boston Red Sox fan. Fortunately, two of my boys are too. Heck, the little one is even playing baseball at school.

Both boys were far too short to crack it on the basketball courts. Me too. Also, I did not seem to have enough co-ordination to manage the lightning speed of passing and quick shooting. Call me dumb or clumsy if you like, it doesn’t matter to me.

At least I’m telling the story like it is. I’m an honest guy. I’m proud to say my boys are too. On those rare days that I cannot pitch up for a match, I usually insist on a detailed breakdown on how the game went for them. It might be hard for them, I know it was hard for me too when I was their age, but they tell me when and why they did not score points or lost a game. Losing is generally not something us cowboys take so well.

But it takes a real man to accept defeat when it comes. Them doing this on the odd occasion and all, well, I’m just so proud of my boys. Now, like father, like sons, they say. Like me, my boys could never get into the big hullabaloo and razzmatazz of US football. The rules seem far too archaic for us anyhow. And those helmets and shoulder pads? Come on guys, who you’re trying to fool. Anyway like me, my boys like soccer.

The football craze started for me way back when the US hosted the 1994 soccer world cup. Before I go any further, let me explain something quickly. Most of you know all about US football. Pretty much everyone is familiar with soccer nowadays. Football, as it stands, is the original name given to soccer. The game has its origins in Britain. But it was a Scotsman who took the game to the famous Brazilians who later went on to pioneering a brand of soccer now coined as the beautiful game.


Although these days, I’m not so sure why. I mean really, guys. The way these supposed pros roll about and fake dives and all. None of this happens in the gridiron game. Once you get clobbered you will know what happened to you. Not in soccer. An opposite number must tackle you foully and really hard for you to feel the pain. Anyway, none of my kids were born by the time I grew to love the game of soccer. Heck, I hadn’t even met my wife then.

I was just finishing college that year. It wasn’t a long drive, so we all took a drive to New York to watch our beloved Irishmen take on one of the favorites, Italy. What a memorable occasion that turned out to be. Against expectations, the Irish won. But it was the Italians who went through to the final against five time world champions, Brazil. They lost that final infamously and unluckily on penalties. Most hearts and minds were on the Brazilians anyway.

And anyway, it’s great to have the boys around when we settle down to watch a big game. Unfortunately, this time around and by the time I typed up this post, a weak Irish team was bundled out of the European Championship.