About forty-some years ago my mother gave my father one of the longest lasting and most cherished birthday presents ever.
No, not me. Season tickets to the New York Giants. Although not unlike your first born, this gift of entry into one of the most sought after sports memberships is something to be treasured. And while our boys in blue have not always been, um, the greatest of teams over the years, going to the games have been some of the most winning memories for me. From the early days of hot chocolate and sandwiches to the later years of wine and cheese, there was nothing like going to a Giants game on a cool Sunday afternoon with my dad. Hearing firsthand the head butts and grunts from just thirteen rows from the field ~ what a thrill those Giants fans! Of course watching the Giants themselves defend their home turf was a rush as well and I whole-heartedly inherited the club membership when my dad left the New York area years ago. I’ve maintained my season tickets even while living on the West Coast for a more than a decade now, but sadly, nearly 3,000 miles of country between us has taken its toll on tailgating and this long distance relationship will soon be coming to an end. The NY Giants and I will be saying our goodbyes next year and sure, we’ll keep seeing each other (network permitting) on television and perhaps just maybe there’ll be one more Super Bowl lottery I’ll get the chance to participate in. Like the parting of many a long time loves, it will certainly be a wistful goodbye but I know it’s the right choice to go our separate ways. And hey, we’ll always have East Rutherford.
© Jennifer Dowd