Happy Father’s Day one and all.
As a father of five today is one of those days where you sit back and reflect on what you have and of course, who you have.
I’m fortunate to have my dad still as are my kids.
I’ve told the story before, but because it is Father’s Day, I have to tell it again.
I was fortunate enough, maybe unfortunate, to have season tickets as a kid with my dad from 1995 to 1998 for the Arizona Cardinals.
Every Sunday dad and I would head down to Sun Devil Stadium for a game, we’d grab a quick bite to eat on our way in and then battle the heat in the south end zone.
It was crazy every week. Despite the terrible product on the field, the south end zone was like a family.
I remember vividly a game against the Washington Redskins in December of 1997 where dad and the fans around me protected me, then an 11 year old, from a fight that broke out between Skins fans and Cards fans.
They moved my dad and I down to the aisle, almost shielding us from the drunken melee, to make sure I was safe, while at the same time rocking that poor Washington fan.
The shielding was the same a year later, as a 12 year old watching Chris Jacke’s field goal sail through the uprights sending the Arizona Cardinals to the playoffs for the first time in the valley.
The fans understandably rushed the field, but our section made sure before the euphoria, dad got me out of there safely.
That’s why the Cardinals mean so much to me.
My dad started me on the sickness, now, 22 years later, I have five kids, four of them boys, who followed me down the rabbit hole.
I’ll have three in tackle football this year, one playing flag football and all of them sporting Cardinals jerseys for Sunday’s, along with my wife and daughter.
It’s an unfortunate disease that gets passed along. Some enjoy it more than others, but they all love Sundays.
It’s about football, it’s about family and it’s about creating a lasting bond.
That’s what the Arizona Cardinals means for me, what about you?