Sibling Rivalry

You gotta' love the Manning brothers.

You know them, right?

Peyton, won a Super Bowl with the Colts.

Eli, won two Super Bowls with the Giants.

And Connor, who hasn't won anything known to football fans.

Yet there was a ESPN piece on the three of them as Peyton and Eli lined up to play this past weekend. The special was well done as they spoke with all three of the Mannings along with Mom and Dad.

I couldn't help but smile.

"They were always battling," Archie said. "It used to scare me that they fought so much."

I thought of growing up with my brothers and sisters.

We had some epic battles.

John usually won.

He was the oldest boy, and he wanted to win. And he was strong. What made it worse was that he was fast too.

He'd chase me down and then beat me up.

Except one time.

I thought about that as I watched Peyton and Connor rolling around on the grass as one of the parents shot the video of their fighting.

John had been working in the basement. Unbeknownst to me he was under extreme duress because someone had been playing tricks on him by shutting off the basement lights from the switch at the top of the stairs.

Those of you who read Oh Brother! know just who was doing it.

Yeah, Jeff.

Yet I returned home in the middle of this little battle and I knew nothing at all about the little game Jeff was playing. As I walked by the basement door I noticed the light was on.

So I shut it off.

Moments later John was running up the stairs.

"Who turned the light off?" he screamed.

"I did," I answered.

"I'm gonna' kill you," he responded.

I wasn't about to wait around for the explanation. I headed out the back door and took off across the back yard. I was still a little unsure but I'd seen the look in his eyes.

Despite my head start he was closing in. I headed around the back side of the garage. I was about twenty feet ahead and despite my Olympic like speed he was gaining on me.

So I grabbed hold of the section of scaffold at the back side of the garage and I yanked on it.

About 50 yards later I turned around when I didn't hear his feet hitting the ground behind me.

He was on the ground.

Under the scaffold pole.

I had yanked it down at just the right time, tripping him up.

"You do realize that I'm going to tear your arm off and beat you to death with it," he called.

And all these years later that's what I thought of.

"We were best friends," Peyton said, "but we were also bitter enemies. We got better because of how we got along all those years. We laugh about it now."

And I certainly know what that's like.

We had some epic battles.

"Remember when I pulled the scaffold over on your head?" I asked John recently.

He still seemed a little pissed off.

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