Well, football season is almost upon us. For those of you that know me, especially my bride Mary Jo, each year during August I start to get edgy because football gets in your blood—the smell of grass and hitting someone is a right of passage for many in our country. Mary Jo is always quick to remind me when I get frustrated with something that I really need to go hit something.

Those who know me from high school or college from teammates and friends to coworkers and family know that I am pretty straight-forward. I call it like I see it and am sometimes accused of not having feelings or patience.

I pride myself on hard work and dedication to the task at hand, and I applied that to the field as well. When playing both lacrosse and football in college, I was an emotional leader in football and the offensive leader on our lacrosse team. Football was different for me, as it is a very emotional game, and I took my role as captain of our team seriously. I never let anyone quit. I had the privilege of playing for a very successful high school program in West Babylon, New York, and later at Marist College in Poughkeepsie. While at Marist, we never really got over the hump (wins and losses) but I did garner great relationships with my teammates—many of whom are still good friends today.

Lacrosse on the other hand was a different story. We were very successful and won the first Championship in any sport at the time from our small Jesuit college. On the lacrosse field, I was a quiet leader, but also not a great teammate because I hated losing more than I liked winning. I am sure several of my teammates did not care for me, but I only pushed them because I wanted them to be better. Sometimes my methods were not the best, but I truly loved each and every one of them.

I am writing this post today because I watched one of my favorite movies Brian’s Song the other day—and bawled my eyes out again. Outside of losing loved ones (more recently our son Gordon) and several of our dogs over the years (Lance, Indy, Middie, Nugget, Thor, and Zeus), I very rarely cry. Maybe it’s a guy thing, or maybe it’s because Mary Jo and Caitlin call me the robot. Now mind you, I do get choked about things but for some reason, I don’t cry a lot.

Losing our son has changed this for me as I cry a lot now. It could be a song, a sunrise, a commercial, or a movie that we loved as a family. There is no telling when this will occur. I travel a good deal with my job and have a lot of drive time, and this is when I cry the most because I am alone with myself. It gives me time to reflect on my son and how I can be a better person to my family, friends, players, parents, officials, and more importantly GOD!

Brian’s Song is one of my all-time favorite movies and in the last scene, Jack Warner who plays Georgie Halas (the famous Chicago Bears Coach) does a voice-over to end the movie. So I want you all to think about these words.

“Brian Piccolo died of cancer at the age of 26. He left a wife and three daughters. He also left many loving friends who think of him often. But when they think of Brian they don’t think of how he died. They remember rather how he lived. Oh, how he lived.”

“Gordon died by suicide at the age of 34. He left a fiancée, sister, brother-in-law, mother, and father. He also left many friends and family who think of him often. But when they think of Gordon they don’t think of how he died. They remember rather how he lived. Oh, how he lived.”