Sporting Dad Pays to Play: A Tribute to Andy Rooney

60 Minutes legend Andy Rooney passed away on a day that I was still without electricity. That strikes me as rather ironic seeing how his cranky observations were rarely anything less than electric.

He once said, "A writer's job is to tell the truth." And if you've been reading this column from the beginning you know that I'm a huge fan of that style of writing. Quite frankly it just wouldn't feel right any other way. And although there will never be another Andy Rooney — it’s fun to pretend sometimes.  

Have you ever wondered why they call it "pay to play" when not everyone really plays? Why don't they change it to "pay to practice and play if the coach likes you?” Or maybe they can call it "pay to play only after the outcome of the game has already been determined and you can't affect the final score." Remember how happy you were at the end of the movie Rudy when he finally got to be on the field for two or three plays after four years of being a punching bag for the starting team? Would you have stood up cheering in the middle of the theater or your living room if Rudy were YOUR kid? I'd want to know why the heck it took so long to notice he wanted to play and that he was actually pretty good.

Have you ever wanted to join the neighborhood kids and play a game of backyard football again? The Boy and his new friends (he made them while we stayed with my sister a few days during the power outage) let me be the "steady quarterback" last week after I told them I was going to write about it and include their names. So there I was trotting onto the field with thoughts of Johnny Unitas and Joe Willie Namath limping into the game for their hurrahs. It was Jack, Brett, and Nick against Cody and The Boy. After a game and a half my ankle was screaming for ice but I didn't want to be the kid to end the game. Thankfully someone was called home for lunch first. His mom didn't yell from across the street like mine always did, "RON-NIE! IT'S PRINCE SPAGHETTI NIGHT! COME IN NOW!" Today it would be more like, RING-RING; “Hey Ron. Are you done playing football sweetie? Dad's on his way home and wants to know if you want Chinese or Five Guys for lunch. Make sure you share with your sister and the nanny.”

Remember when your little brother followed you wherever you went? It wasn't because you were going anyplace interesting. Usually your parents made him go so they wouldn't have to worry about him being abducted while they were at work. And doesn’t it feel strange as an adult to want to follow him around now? Now you can leave the kids home with the security system on and the Internet as a babysitter. They can still be abducted — except now they never have to leave the computer screen.

Why is it that kids need a different pair of cleats for every sport nowadays? Don’t their feet shuffle from side-to-side, pivot, run, slide, and jump no matter what kind of ball it is that they’re chasing? I wish Dick’s Sporting Goods still had that athletic shoe warrantee. At the end of every season they’d always fall apart just in time for the next sport. And can somebody invent an expandable cleat? That way when the child’s foot grows two sizes in a year you only need to click the sole two slots and it will fit again.

Did you ever notice that at some youth sporting events there are more players on the field than there are parents in the bleachers? Did they have something better to do for those two hours like rake the leaves or write a report for work? I don’t know about you, but I’d rather drive a 1996 Toyota Camry and not miss a kick-off rather than drive a new Jag and not know what positions they play. I work all day on Sundays too — it just happens to be within viewing distance of the playing field.

Why do you think every family has its own Monopoly rules? Did anyone bother to read the ones that came with the game? In our house we put $200 in Free Parking as well as any fines paid from Chance and Community Chest. It wasn’t until about ten years ago that I learned if a person passes on buying a property, everyone (including the person that did not buy it) can bid until it’s sold. Did you know that once you run out of houses and hotels — that is it? We’d have others from our old Monopoly game or use extra dice if we wanted to build more. Didn’t it annoy you that the roll of the dice determined how much you had to pay the Electric Company? It seems CL&P took that system a little too far and used it to decide on how many crews it was sending to each town after a major storm. They must have thrown a lot of snake-eyes.