Memory #1...Done
So if life is about making memories, why not make a few?
Kathy, the boys and I went to the hockey game last night. The Sabres were playing the Bruins and as a surprise I picked up five tickets for Christmas, mainly because Sam hadn't stopped talking about the couple of games that he'd been to earlier in his life and I tell you something, the kid is dealing with the sort of memory his old man has.
"Remember when we came down here to see Bruce?" he asked as we were heading into the arena. "Uncle John parked next to us and we all had to climb the fence to get to our car because they had locked the gate."
Okay, yes, he's seen Springsteen twice. As an adult I regret the fact that I never saw Sinatra with my Dad so I wanted to give him the chance to see a legend before he got caught up in the rap crap.
Anyway, I didn't remember climbing the fence.
So, we settled into our seats and I explained how the Sabres were going to get beat. We had a little playful banter back and forth especially when Boston took a 3 to 1 lead.
But I was hoping they weren't disappointed. I actually was rooting for the comeback, and there were a couple of them. The Sabres went ahead 5 to 4 only to blow the lead and trail 6 to 5 with less than 30 seconds left...and then lightning struck. A late goal, followed by loud screams from the kids and the other 19,000 people.
In all of those voices I only heard three. Matt, Jake and Sam were screaming, singing and reminding me that the Sabres were great tonight. Of course the game stayed tied through the overtime and it was going to be settled with a shoot-out...Sam's one wish for the night.
The Sabres scored three out of three times and we headed back into the cold. All three boys were yelling, skipping and shouting back at me. Yes, the Sabres were good, last night.
Kathy and I walked a little slower than they did and as we headed to the car, I took a little solace in the fact that I'd spent the money wisely for once. I traded a pile of paper and ink for a memory that will last for a lot of years.
"Thank you!" the boys each screamed as we hit the pavement.
One for one in '11.
Kathy, the boys and I went to the hockey game last night. The Sabres were playing the Bruins and as a surprise I picked up five tickets for Christmas, mainly because Sam hadn't stopped talking about the couple of games that he'd been to earlier in his life and I tell you something, the kid is dealing with the sort of memory his old man has.
"Remember when we came down here to see Bruce?" he asked as we were heading into the arena. "Uncle John parked next to us and we all had to climb the fence to get to our car because they had locked the gate."
Okay, yes, he's seen Springsteen twice. As an adult I regret the fact that I never saw Sinatra with my Dad so I wanted to give him the chance to see a legend before he got caught up in the rap crap.
Anyway, I didn't remember climbing the fence.
So, we settled into our seats and I explained how the Sabres were going to get beat. We had a little playful banter back and forth especially when Boston took a 3 to 1 lead.
But I was hoping they weren't disappointed. I actually was rooting for the comeback, and there were a couple of them. The Sabres went ahead 5 to 4 only to blow the lead and trail 6 to 5 with less than 30 seconds left...and then lightning struck. A late goal, followed by loud screams from the kids and the other 19,000 people.
In all of those voices I only heard three. Matt, Jake and Sam were screaming, singing and reminding me that the Sabres were great tonight. Of course the game stayed tied through the overtime and it was going to be settled with a shoot-out...Sam's one wish for the night.
The Sabres scored three out of three times and we headed back into the cold. All three boys were yelling, skipping and shouting back at me. Yes, the Sabres were good, last night.
Kathy and I walked a little slower than they did and as we headed to the car, I took a little solace in the fact that I'd spent the money wisely for once. I traded a pile of paper and ink for a memory that will last for a lot of years.
"Thank you!" the boys each screamed as we hit the pavement.
One for one in '11.
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