I still remember my first hockey game. My dad called me from work and told me that a guy he knew had tickets for the game that night that he couldn't attend. He asked if I wanted to go the game, and I said yes. I had never even watched a hockey game before that, and was curious what it was all about. After he got off of work, we took our first of what would be many trips to the Civic Arena. We had seats right behind the goal, just a few rows from the ice. I don't remember the score, but I do remember that the Pens were playing the Sharks. During the game, my dad explained all of the rules to me. On the way home, he asked me if I would like to go to more games. Of course I said yes, and that's how my obsession began. We went to a few more games that season, and next season, my dad bought a partial season ticket plan with his income tax refund, which he would do every year until I graduated high school. Back then, you were sent a schedule for the season, and you picked out the games you wanted to go to. Now I guess they just give you pre-selected games. Every year, we would get the schedule and sit down to decide what games we wanted to go to. Of course we always picked all of the games against Philly. The rest were usually based on what players we wanted to see from opposing teams. Of course we wanted to see Gretzky, Patrick Roy, Dominik Hasek, Brodeur, (a lot of goalies, I know), Pavel Bure, and many, many more. We would also go to every playoff game that we could. We had a pre-game ritual of stopping at the same Sunoco for some pop, parking in the same lot (the Boy Scouts building across from the arena), and getting personal pan pizzas from the Pizza Hut stand. I loved sitting in F15, where you could see the plays form and have a great view of the entire rink. I remember the snow storms we endured. One of my favorite memories was when one of my dad's tires popped on the way to a game. We were about halfway to the arena (we lived about an hour away) when the tire blew. My dad got out of the car and popped a donut tire on. We drove on the freeway all the way to the game and back on that flimsy ass tire, and managed to only miss a few minutes of the game. After we got home, my dad said, "Well Jack, we made it! Didn't think we would." Another time, I fell asleep after school before we were going to a game, and it took a while for my dad to wake me up, which made us run a little late. On the freeway on the way there, traffic was backed up for a while. We listened to the radio, and it turned out that there was a horrible accident. We could see Lifeflight helicopters and ambulances everywhere. We gave each other a frightened look, and both said, "Well, it's a good thing we were running late. That could have been us." I will never forget being able to see Mario's comeback game after he had retired. The Igloo had a big lit up "66" on it, and when Barbaro introduced Mario, the crowd was deafening. My dad and I both had tears in our eyes that night.
After I moved out of my dad's, he moved down to Florida with my stepmom. We still talked on the phone every day, and I missed him like crazy. I'm lucky that I was able to go down and see him a few times. Last year, he called to tell me that he didn't think he was going to last much longer. My aunts and I hopped on a plane to go see him. The Stanley Cup finals were just starting, and I'm so glad that I got to see the first two games with my dad before he passed away. The day of game two, I did some running around with my aunt, and returned to find my dad asleep on the bed in the living room that Hospice had given him. My other aunt, who had stayed with him while I was out said, "He wanted to take a nap so he was sure to have enough energy to watch the game with you later." Unfortunately, the Pens lost that night, but nothing could compare to being able to watch the game with him. My aunts and I returned home, and he passed away the day after we came back... His last words to me were "Let's go Pens! I love ya Jack."
Watching the Pens win the Cup last year was amazing, and I know my dad was watching right along with me. My stepmom said she couldn't even watch game 7 because she could just imagine my dad and I calling each other on the phone back and forth to talk about the game. It was during game 7 that I came up with my ritual of the "extreme high-five"; I high-five the sky every time the Pens score a goal or win, just like I would high-five my dad whenever we would be watching a game together. I miss him more and more everyday, and with Father's Day coming up, it feels like everything dad-related is being jammed down my throat. To those of you lucky enough to still have your dads around, make sure to cherish every moment, because you just never know when it will be someone's time to go.
R.I.P. Dad 4/7/57-6/2/09
This one's for you...I know it's your favorite. :-)
2 comments:
"I’m so sorry about your Dad" seems like such a small sentiment for such a big loss, but it's all I can think to say. He sounds like a really great guy and those are some awesome hockey stories to have shared with him.
Thank you, it's the fond memories that keep me going, and I still wear the Straka jersey he got me for Christmas one year. :-)
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