The post that follows I wrote back in October of last year, on my way to the first NFL game I had attended since the events that transpired below. Though written to near completion then, my close proximity to the emotions that had evoked the post in the first place were too vivid to be posted immediately. Time and distance have since allowed me the space to further refine for what it is that I am searching. With the current football season coming to a close shortly and a new year upon us, now seemed the right time to publish. Later posts will delve into further reasons behind the recovery of the blog. For now, enjoy.

It was September 28, 2008. Bears and Eagles, Sunday Night Football. For being a primetime game, it’s significance in the overall history of the NFL is rather minuscule. Neither team would go on to win the Super Bowl. No records were broken. No Hall of Fame careers were realized or ended. It was just another football game.

The first half was an offensive duel, quarterbacks Kyle Orton and Donovan McNabb led their teams on multiple touchdown drives each. The second half was one for the defenses, as only field goals were traded between the two. Into the 4th quarter, Robbie Gould, with his “good as gold” consistency, put the Bears up 24-20 in the 4th quarter on a 41 yard field goal. McNabb tried to counter, driving the Eagles all the way down to the Bears’ 1 yard line, for a 2nd-and-goal play.

But, in typical Soldier Field, smash-mouth fashion that would have made the likes of Butkus and Singletary proud, the Bears defense held their ground, not giving up that final yard for 3 consecutive plays. Turnover on downs. No points allowed. With another failed drive by the Eagles in the waning moments of the game, the Bears sealed the victory.

Even as I watched that game, I could have never realized that, though seemingly just another prime time Bears game, it would mean so much to me now, some 6 years later. So what was the significance of that game? With my Dad having just been released from the hospital, that game was the first time, in a long time, I had got to hang out and watch a game with my Dad. And oh, so little did I know then, watching that game with my Dad would be the last time I would get the chance to do anything with my Dad.

Just getting into my first round of midterms at the Academy, with an 8am morning class and long 3 hours drive away between me and Muncie, I was torn between enjoying a football game with my Dad or remaining true to the responsibilities I had chosen for that season of life. I’ve often looked back on what was, at that time, a rather difficult decision and wondered what I would have felt had I not stayed to watch that game. I think it not hard to conclude I made a good choice that night, despite not knowing what lay ahead.

I am aware of how existential it may sound to try to compare that choice to the countless choices I have made -trivial, crucial or otherwise- between then and now. However, though admittedly inglorious on its own, that choice to watch a single football game has nonetheless had a lasting impact on my life. While I can see how that choice has affected my last remembrance of my Dad, I have, since then, often failed to make choices in light of the same possibility that those choices could also remain with me for awhile, for even a lifetime. Now, I am not saying these choices were bad choices, but they did set me on a trajectory that led me to where I am today. In those 6 formative years since then, I chose:

• to stay at the Academy, instead of returning to Merrillville High School
• to give up saxophone and cross country, instead of continuing with them alongside my studies
• to accept the scholarship at IUPUI, instead of accepting the offers from other schools.
• to spend a semester abroad in Cape Town, instead of the countless other places I could have gone
• to participate in certain student organizations, instead of other, equally good student organizations
• to do the research I did, instead of pursuing other research opportunities I had
• to take on a graveyard shift job, instead of taking other jobs or loans to make ends meet

Now, let this not come across as ungrateful complaining or futile retrospection. Hear me when I say I have not a single regret. The purpose of this reminiscence is to rediscover my identity: to analyze why I made those choices then and to acknowledge how those choices have formed me into who I am now, just as that otherwise forgettable football game formed a lasting memory with my Dad.

Should you care to join me in the posts that follow, I would gladly welcome companionship for this sentimental, and hopefully informing, journey.