Pride

Pride, in its proper place, can be a good thing.

Maybe that's a lot of what I love about college football. The tradition, the history, but more than that the character that is part of the game, leave a sense of pride. I'm sure maybe it's just as true in about any other sport but perhaps just the influence of where I grew up, in a place where college football was everything, that becomes the sport that has its influence on me. And maybe it's silly to have pride in a sports team because after all, I have nothing to do with the team. I'm not the guy scoring the touchdowns, or blocking, or tackling, or even showing these guys how to do all that. I'm a guy who sits in the stands or in front of his tv. But for whatever reason, it's like we pick certain teams to represent us, and those teams become a source of pride.

My last post I was talking about the University of Buffalo football team, especially the guys who, 50 years ago chose to skip a bowlgame that, in that day, was the ultimate goal of a small college football team, rather than leave behind teammates whose skin was a different color. They took a stand back in a day when such a stand wasn't so fashionable, and it was that character that to me was a reasonable source of pride for anyone associated with the program.

Yesterday, I got to gather with a group of Nebraska fans watching the Gator Bowl. Watching this group of young men, who'd gone through some difficult times as a team, hang in there and battle back after some mistakes put them behind, was a source of pride. Seeing Joe Ganz come up hobbling, then getting his bell rung pretty well, and hanging in there to lead his team to a great comeback, was a source of pride. What has endeared me to this particular team is that they never quit, never gave up. I have as much pride in them as in any of the Nebraska teams from the glory days of 10 or more years ago.

But nothing compares to the pride related to this morning's ventures. This morning, I took my son to the airport. He flies back east to complete his basic training for the army. There are many times I look back at my role as his dad, sometimes my lack of role as his dad, and it's easy to look at life with regrets. And yet despite it all, I've seen this boy become a man. His comment on the way to the airport: "I've got to finish what I started." He could have gone anywhere for the holiday break, but what meant the world to me was, he wanted to come here. And as I see this man who has transformed almost instantly go off to catch his flight and serve his country, I felt tremendous pride in him. That's a good thing. Really good....