By this time Saturday, my son and I will be headed north on U.S. 75 in a rented car. Our travel plans: an overnight stop in Overland Park, Kan., dinner at Buffalo Wild Wings to watch college football and then the Kansas City Chiefs vs. Denver Broncos on Sunday at Arrowhead Stadium.
This will be Will’s second NFL game in his young life. An undersized quarterback himself, my boy tends to symphathize with guys like Drew Brees or Russell Wilson, but when you get what may be that only chance to see future Hall-of-Famer Peyton Manning live, you take it.
I look forward to these father-son trips so much. Two years ago, I took him to see the Dallas Cowboys at the Jerry Dome in Arlington. Cowboys lost but seeing such joy in my son’s face was worth it. He raved for days about how good the $9 chicken nuggets and large-cut French fries tasted.
Such enthusiasm cannot help but take me back to sporting events my own father took me to so many years ago. Heck, he even does that now as we annually watch one OU game with his season tickets.
The earliest contest I remember was during one of our vacations to see my grandfather in northern California. We traveled to Candlestick Park to watch the San Francisco 49ers play the Cleveland Browns in a preseason game. Neither team was great in the historic sense, but I still remember the moment and can recall names such as John Brodie and Leroy Kelly as if they suited up yesterday.
Many years later, I joined Dad and two hyphenated brothers (meaning step-brother and brother-in-law) for the January 2002 Cotton Bowl game pitting OU against Arkansas. It was one of the coldest football experiences I ever endured, but it was worth every chilly moment. Only a few years later we lost our beloved brother in law, Jimmy Newton.
I still call my dad immediately after thrilling moments watching OU football on television. His calls are fewer and farther in-between due to health issues. Less than a week ago, however, I hit as speedy a dial as I could to follow up on the Sooners’ comeback victory at West Virginia. We laughed about the close calls and hoped the Kansas State loss meant that OU had a back-door path to the Big 12 title.
My dad never got to complete college but his hard work paid my way through OU. He is among their biggest, most faithful fans, once even missing my 40th birthday celebration because Alabama was playing at Norman. I couldn’t blame him at all, truthfully.
So if you ever notice the elderly guy with flowing white hair and long beard sitting in the handicapped section just behind the south goal post, stop and say hello to my dad Larry Walton. He is one great guy who has given his children and grandchildren access to some wonderful football moments. He also doesn’t know I’ve told you this. But he’s sure to offer up a high five if the Crimson and Cream scores while you’re in the general vicinity.
I hope my son will feel the same way in years to come. I know he does now, judging from the enthusiastic way he talked about offensive strategies and the happiness in devouring those Cowboy Stadium chicken strips not so long ago. Will he look back with such strong emotion at those exciting comebacks and heartbreaking losses, shared together? A dad can only hope so.
I now get why my dad goes the extra mile to include us in his football passion. The pride it brings us old guys is at least equal to the fun our children have in sharing those gridiron moments. Maybe a yard or two more fun, to be honest.
