On August 5th, my grandfather, Nat Stengel (no relation to Casey) passed away. Thinking about my relationship with my grandfather I can’t help but think about all the times that people have told me “(Professional) Sports don’t matter,” or “Being a fan of a team is stupid.” Looking back I know I’ve had to defend myself to friends and an ex-wife about my emotional commitment to my Mets, Devils and Giants. I’ve thought increasingly over their points and find myself realizing how wrong these people were.
Some people, my grandfather included, have difficulty expressing their feelings. They have a hard time expressing to the friends and family their love and admiration. They might even have trouble finding things to talk about at any length. I would call my grandfather every weekend and we’d talk. What would these conversations have been like without our bond of sports? He’d have told me of what doctors he’d seen and what restaurants he’d gone to, but we’d have only been sharing news briefs, not pieces of ourselves.
My grandfather had been a pure Giants fan, loving both of these great New York teams. He loved Willie Mays and Y.A. Tittle and could talk more about the future state of the Yankee rotation than he could himself. As you may have guessed, when the Giants of baseball moved to San Francisco, my grandfather shifted his allegiance to that other team in New York. Being a Met fan and talking Yankee baseball with my grandfather will remain one of my fondest memories of him as I grow older.
It didn’t matter if we talked sarcastically about Robinson Cano only being GREAT this year, the up and comers in the Met’s rotation, Alex Rodriguez and his steroid troubles or even if I talked a bit of hockey (which might as well have been French to him or Yiddish to me). Sports gave us our code to speak in and gave us a way to share our love for one another without actually saying the words.
In honor of my grandfather, the second sweetest kid in the world, I’d like to say, “The Giants NEED to fire Tom Coughlin.” Which roughly translates to, “I miss you, and I wish you were here.”
My condolences David. A very heart felt article and a tribute to your Grandfather. Sports is a great thread to weave in a family’s quilt. Sorry for your loss.
I’m sorry for your loss.
It’s a sad thing that the best thing about ESPN are the commercials they do to promote themselves. Regardless, they did one a few years ago that revolved around, of all things, a Cardinals blanket. We saw the blanket inside a red wagon with a little kid riding in it and we saw the kid grow up with the blanket, even taking it to college. Eventually, the blanket is helping with the now grown kid’s first child. And the tagline was something like: “Without sports, what would we have to hold onto?”
Thanks for the kind thoughts. Does anyone else have any stories of how a love of sports effected one of their relationships?
David,
My condolences. Years ago, when my mother was in the hospital I stopped by and we sat watching a football game. My mother knew nothing about football, but she was caught up in the excitement of John Ellway rallying the Broncos against the Cleveland Browns. Sports can have mystical powers.
Because sports is in the moment, it’s impossible to put on a false front. You rise in juberance or recoil in agony. Because of that, t’s a natural for male bonding. A lot of kids don’t see their dad act like that except for sporting events.
My condolences, David. Fantastic piece that explains how a love of a sports team can’t really, well, be explained for the most part. Thanks for sharing.