bring home a winnner

I've let my blog slide over the past few months. I just wanted to catch readers up with some of my columns from over the past few months.
In the spirit of Father’s Day, and this being my 30th year since graduating from high school, I’ve been getting all nostalgic as I gear up for my reunion at the end of July.
I recently stumbled across some old writings and junk from back in high school, and one of the things that I found was our senior class magazine and an article I wrote for it. I thought I’d share that story with Journal readers:
It was finally here. The day the whole team had been preparing for since early August. Sept. 8, the first football game of the season against Lorain. I had a better reason for anticipation of that day. Aside from the fact that I had a good chance of playing instead of sitting on the bench, my father was to come home from the hospital that day.
A week earlier, they had operated on my father and found that he had lung cancer. He was to come home and receive chemotherapy treatments and only time would tell.
Thursday, Sept. 7, was the spirit parade. I came late to the parade because I was visiting my dad with my mom. As I was leaving the hospital, my dad said, “Bring home a winner.”
At the spirit parade, I sat with the team and listened to the enthusiastic speeches about how great the team was and how we were going to destroy Lorain. It was a typical spirit parade.
Friday morning, I woke up with butterflies in my stomach. Tonight was my first game as a senior. I donned my shirt and tie, nibbled at breakfast and headed off to school.
Second period flew by and third period was just getting under way when the classroom phone rang. I was called up to the office. They told me my father’s condition has worsened.
The thought of the night’s game was gone from my head. I ran home and drove over to the hospital. A neighbor of ours, a nurse, met me and took me to my mom, who was crying. She told me my father had died.
The day was slow, sad and lonely, although my whole family was at my house. I couldn’t take it. I walked back to school to tell (principal) Mr. Lindsay what had happened. We talked a few minutes and decided that my dad would have wanted me to go to the game, so I went.
The coaches had been informed of what had happened that day. They asked if I was sure I should be there. I had to, my dad told me to bring home a winner, and that’s what I intended to do, with a little help from my friends. Only a few of them knew about my dad.
When we came into the locker room at halftime down 6-0, I wasn’t sure I still wanted to be there. I’d gotten to play more than I expected to, and was doing better than usual, but as a team, we didn’t look that good at all.
The final score didn’t turn out much better. We lost 20-0, and by the end of the night, I didn’t care if I ever saw a football again. The last thing my dad told me was to bring home a winner.
Well, I didn’t let him down. I found a way I could be a winner, no matter the outcome of the game.
I started covering the football games for the Lakewood High Times and eventually became sports editor. Writing sports became as fun and as challenging as participating.
And, I’d like to say, I’ve had a pleasure informing the school about the achievements of our athletes. This, along with the award I won for best sports column and other writing awards have given me the feeling that I brought home a winner!