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That's
My Boy!
by The Swammi, special corresponsdent, Nationals II
Those
words rang in my ears for hours as I thought about what I witnessed
on Saturday AM, the morning of the games. You see, several ballers
were sitting at the opposite end of the Lobby Lounge as I set
up Nationals communications central. Mr. Winston McKeever, The
Director's father happened to be standing near where I was just
relaxing having a glass of ice water. At the time The Director
was not in the lobby lounge. However, the topic of the conversation
was how The Director was taking someone apart the night before
the games, and no one had even heard of this guy. He was not a
forum regular, he was not bold in making any predictions. He didn't
represent a league nor did he have a crew he was rolling with.
The ballers seemed to be extremely impressed with The Directors
game and was making conversation of it. Once Mr. McKeever over
heard the description of his son, he immediately stepped in with
a gleamining smile on face and said...."yea, that's my boy."
The ballers, surprised, looked and noticed Mr. McKeever, and showed
their amazement, as they complemented his son's skills. But the
look they had on their faces was more of, "I thought that
guy was in the tournament." Instead, Mr. McKeever was there
accompanying his son.
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| Steve
Posey (L) and The Director (R) collide in the round robin.
The Director emerged victorious 41-22. |
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I
noticed the two walk in together on Friday. They were the first
to arrive at the lobby lounge. As a matter of fact, they were
the first to arrive at all the events each day. The Director (John),
is every bit of 6-3 and 22 years old. Almost the youngest gun
at the tournament, but not quite. I greeted him and his dad upon
their arrival thinking both were ballers in the tourney. As we
introduced ourselves, it turned out John was there to ball, and
dad was there to hang and perhaps coach. Hmmm, I thought to myself,
this is interesting. As I watched them throughout the weekend,
I noticed dad, very much into his son's games. He was right there,
just like he had a 50 yard line seat at an NFL matchup. The gleam
was there. That same gleam you see on any pro ballers dad face.
After a game you would see them talking as if they were discussing
game strategies (I'm only assuming). Or perhaps the upcoming opponents
weakness, and what type of game plan to employ next. It was like
dad was the seasoned coach with all the wisdom, and the son was
taking the wisdom, merging it with his talent, and together they
were winning.
What
is beautiful about this story is that something as trivial in
the world we live in, such as John Madden football, can bring
a father and son out together, to share, bond, and spend quality
time. How many of us could say our dads have ever come to a Playstation
event? Okay, so most of our dads are from the Pong generation,
BUT STILL, wouldn't you love to be able to play some Madden with
your pops. I'd be willing to say that many of the men in that
room probably can't wait until their sons (or even daughters)
are old enough to understand a zone from man, to throw the joysticks
in their kids hands and get it on in the family.
I
saw something special that made me realize that the draw to this
game is finding something in all of us that brings out more than
just the competitive spirit we have. Sure we go because we want
to win, sure we are driven to be able to say we are the best.
But John and his dad working together at Nationals was bigger
than just being the best. The ambiance of the tourney is bigger
than winning and losing. It is something special and unique when
you can take nearly 50 testosterone filled guys, that will do
just about anything to win, and hold an event whereby winning
is the objective, but if you fall in route, you have still had
a great time. When you gather that feeling, you know then that
this game transcends the simplistic competitive desires we have
stored in us. And that is what is making Nationals more than just
a tournament....it is becoming an event.
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