More Than Just a Sport

So last night D2 came with me to the final Canes regular season game. The Canes got blown away by a team inferior in talent. We had an awesome time. It was the penultimate event of a banner T Day holiday. In the am, houseguest Elizabeth and I took 2/3 of our dog infestation out for a walk around Devonwood -- little man Bo sat this one out with Wifey. Then D1 fetched D2 and took her to Nicole's house, where Missy hosted her annual brunch for her kids' returning friends. D2 was dropped off, and we drove the man sized Buick to Miami Jewish, where D2 visited with her aging and declining (well, one of them, anyway) grandparents. On the way out, we stopped and greeted Mirta, who Wifey and her BFF Edna have hired to spend time with their two fathers. Mirta was leading Meyer, who turns 90 next week, into another session of singing his favorite song "Those Were the Days," which seems particularly poignant for a man his age, who has gone through so much... D2 and I then learned one can get to Joe Robbie from MJH in a very short time, so we arrived as the first in the lot. Soon after Paul drove up in his girlie sized Mercedes, step son in tow, and then Norman and Mike arrived in their tailgate bulging vehicles, and the party was in full swing. And there was the point: standing around, eating and drinking, and basking in the love of your oldest and closest friends. I met most of these people when I was still a kid -- 18 and starting college -- and now, 35 years on, the memories we share, and the laughs we've caused each other, are sacred. I really am a fan of the Canes. When they soar, I find my week is happier, and when they disappoint, as they have this season, my mood darkens. But that's NOT really the point. Earlier this year, a bunch of us traveled to Lincoln, Nebraska, to watch the team play in a true cathedral of the sport. The game was close at first, and a Husker fan in front of me was ribbing me about our formerly great and now mediocre team. And then he added, "But what's awesome is being at a game with your closest friends, and making memories over the years." He was dead on, of course. And last night was even more special, in that my friends' kids were there, now all or mostly grown up. Mike's Amanda and Chris were in from LA. 1/3 of Norman's crop of outstanding sons, Benji, was there, too. Eric and Dana's Josh and Jen, visiting from Atlanta and NYC, wore matching jerseys, and helped celebrate their parents' 28th anniversary. Paul's son Alex, like D2 a life long Cane and now a father himself, was there with his brother in law. And Barry's VLS (very large sons), were happily there, too, along with their Mom Donna, who wanted to see Scott in his element for the last time before he goes off to college next Fall... So we gathered, in the fading daylight, and ate, and drank (Mike did some college level tequila shots and was hugging and kissing everyone in sight), and reminisced, and shared our time. We were there to watch a game, of course, but we were really there to share a unique kind of love. And to have D2 there for me, was, well, as good as it gets.