a fan's note
meadowlands giants football sunday new jersey
with my 68 year old man, he's announcing his retirement
from the station tomorrow. 43 years of service, he wants no retirement party, he might not even say goodbye to most colleagues. he will just cash in his chips and go. he must have killed his ego somewhere in Germany, China, maybe at Super Bowl XII where he cut that amazing piece for the Super Bowl Champions the Dallas Cowboys, highlights of the best of over scored by Sinatra singing 'here's to the winners".
dad hates the Dallas Cowboys. he has a 23 year old t-shirt that he still wears on weekends that reads: my favorite football team is the giants...and who ever is playing dallas. yet he cut that piece, won an emmy. professionalism. he might be the most serious giants fan at the meadowlands sunday after sunday. the antithesis of that media loving whore fireman jet fan from jersey with the stupid hat who has minor celebrity status. who needs it? creep.
me and the old man, I figure I have a good 12 years left with him if i'm lucky. his father from county waterford died at 76, so maybe 8. but we had today in the sun, best seats in the house, my cousin obnoxiously drunk, but the old man tolerated him without a comment of adversity. and we watched the game, our team played like a well tuned symphony. we finally have a quarterback. and we both felt good about the future.
such a beautiful day, might be one of the best this fall. and it's just me, the old man, and the giants. and we jab each other in the ribs in jest, making the best out of my drunken cousin's obtrusiveness, a terrible amateur drunk if we ever laid eyes on one. italian.
the sun shines on section 309. a lot of history there. things are looking good. he laughs at my jokes like he used to, only because i am finally humorous again, because i finally submitted. we wear sunglasses and look at each other often as the game progresses. and it was a good thing because I cried for 30 seconds or so. my father. he is no bullshit. we haven't said we love each other in years. we don't have to. life is not a tv show we know that. it just pays his bills. i am hoping for 15.
meadowlands giants football sunday new jersey
with my 68 year old man, he's announcing his retirement
from the station tomorrow. 43 years of service, he wants no retirement party, he might not even say goodbye to most colleagues. he will just cash in his chips and go. he must have killed his ego somewhere in Germany, China, maybe at Super Bowl XII where he cut that amazing piece for the Super Bowl Champions the Dallas Cowboys, highlights of the best of over scored by Sinatra singing 'here's to the winners".
dad hates the Dallas Cowboys. he has a 23 year old t-shirt that he still wears on weekends that reads: my favorite football team is the giants...and who ever is playing dallas. yet he cut that piece, won an emmy. professionalism. he might be the most serious giants fan at the meadowlands sunday after sunday. the antithesis of that media loving whore fireman jet fan from jersey with the stupid hat who has minor celebrity status. who needs it? creep.
me and the old man, I figure I have a good 12 years left with him if i'm lucky. his father from county waterford died at 76, so maybe 8. but we had today in the sun, best seats in the house, my cousin obnoxiously drunk, but the old man tolerated him without a comment of adversity. and we watched the game, our team played like a well tuned symphony. we finally have a quarterback. and we both felt good about the future.
such a beautiful day, might be one of the best this fall. and it's just me, the old man, and the giants. and we jab each other in the ribs in jest, making the best out of my drunken cousin's obtrusiveness, a terrible amateur drunk if we ever laid eyes on one. italian.
the sun shines on section 309. a lot of history there. things are looking good. he laughs at my jokes like he used to, only because i am finally humorous again, because i finally submitted. we wear sunglasses and look at each other often as the game progresses. and it was a good thing because I cried for 30 seconds or so. my father. he is no bullshit. we haven't said we love each other in years. we don't have to. life is not a tv show we know that. it just pays his bills. i am hoping for 15.