Officer Underwood - Always Stay Humble and Kind

When those dreams you're dreamin' come to you
When the work you put in is realized
Let yourself feel the pride but
Always stay humble and kind.

- lyrics by Lori McKenna, sung by Tim McGraw

I wanted to be a truck driver.  A big rig, cab over Pete with the reefer on kinda truck driver!  When I was 10, I got a CB radio and a beach towel with trucker terminology printed all over it - smokey, seat cover, bear in the air, 10-10 on the side Good Buddy.  Listened to Red Sovine, Dave Dudley and CW McCall.  Oh I was into it.  Then Star Wars came out and I think I wanted to be a pilot.  And then maybe an artist.  By college, I was gonna be a chemical engineer before I was gonna be an electrical engineer.  By the time I graduated, I had it figured out.  Or did I?  Maybe I wanna be a writer.  Or a photographer.  Oh dammmmmmm.  I'm so confused!!!

Most people I know have weaved a similar disjointed web of "what I wanna be when I grow up."  My son is not most people.  When Chris was in middle school, he wanted to be a police officer.  That has never changed.  Oh sure, he had a few months when he expected to play football at Michigan and get drafted by the Patriots.  But for as long as he could imagine a future, he wanted to be a police officer.

He entered college as a Criminal Justice major and left college 4 years later with a Criminal Justice degree.  Even before he graduated, he was taking police exams in towns around southern New Hampshire.  He learned very quickly that this is a very rigorous and competitive process.  Often times, a hundred candidates would test for one job.  So despite consistently having the highest scores in the written exams and physical agility tests, rejection became the norm.  Finding a letter in the mailbox from a police department became a downer.  Sometimes it was a who you know kind of decision.  Some times it was just that others interviewed better.

Most would have given up after the first 5 or 6 rejection letters.  But in no way was Chris letting go of his dream.  He would just keep trying.  This is who he is.  He is the guy who played freshman basketball in high school, but was cut from the team as a sophomore.  So he just tried out again as a junior and got cut.  And then he tried out again senior year.  Why would he keep trying when the odds were against him?  Because, as he would say, the odds were worse if he didn't try out at all.  So that's what he did.  He never made the varsity basketball team, but he didn't have to.  He just had to try. This is also the same kid who played football since he was seven years old.  The helmet bobbled around on his tiny head.  He was never really a star player, although he did have one Pop Warner season with 13 touchdowns as a wing back.  But he kept playing.  In high school, he hit the weight room.  He got faster and stronger.  He played varsity as a junior and started as a senior.  He added pounds of muscle and became a physical beast and won the football team's Iron Man contest his senior year.  He was gonna play football in college no matter what.  He tried to walk on at Westfield State his sophomore year.  He basically harassed the head coach with phone calls and emails until he got a meeting.  He was invited to work out, but there was no room on the team that fall for him.  Coach said to come back for spring workouts and we will see what we can do for next year.  So he stayed with it.  He impressed during spring workouts with his speed and strength.  Played some semi-pro football in the summer and returned to school his junior year where he made the team as a defensive back.  He didn't see much of the field.  But he was on the team.  Because that's what he said he would do.  When I say that rejection makes this guy stronger, that's an understatement.

Tonight, his perseverance once again has paid off.  Chris swore under oath, in front of plenty of family and friends, to serve and protect the community and is at last a full time police officer.  I was proud and honored to be asked to present him with his first badge.  Not only has this been his dream for a long time, but this is the job that makes perfect sense for who he is.  He has the perfect temperament in stressful situations and will be a very good cop.  In just over a year as a security officer at Lowell General Hospital, he has become a highly respected and important part of the emergency department because of how he assists with volatile situations and how he interacts with patients and staff.  They say he will be missed.

At the beginning, I quoted Tim McGraw's Humble and Kind because I truly believe that song defines my son.  There's another line in there that says,

"Don't expect a free ride from no one. Don't hold a grudge or a chip and here's why. Bitterness keeps you from flying, so always stay humble and kind." 

He could have been bitter toward the high school basketball coach, the college football coach or the entire application process of becoming a police officer.  Instead, he flew!!

Father's Day: I Come From A Long, Squiggly, Awesome Line of Love

I've been a son for 50 something years, a stepson for 36 and a father for 24.  So I consider myself a virtual virtuoso in fatherology, wikkid experienced in the ways of got yer nose, pull my finger and hold my beer.

Yes, Father's Day is a Hallmark Holiday and we do not need some artificial date to appreciate our Dads.  But you have to admit, it helps. 

For whatever reason whatever your higher being has, I have been flooded with lessons and reminders of what it means to be a FATHER this week.  From Jimmy's birthday beer with Grampy to sharing stories about my stepdad Peder with my stepcousin Bigfoot at Laconia to looking at pictures of Kim's dad Butch on our wedding day to crying tears of joy with Kim after getting great news from Chris, this has been a father kind of week!!

But best of all, on Wednesday, I am flying down to Pittsburgh to visit with my Dad and then drive him and Laurette back to New England for Katie's wedding.  I am so looking forward to spending 4 straight days with the man who has handed down to me a long line of love that has defined me and that continues to define my two kids.  Oh sure, our line of love is not very straight... it has a few bends and branches, a break here and there... but it is long!!  Yes, dads teach us how to make armpit farts, how to make ketchup smiley faces on boloney and how to drive a stick.  But my Dad also taught me the importance of family and what it means to love those people closest to me.  And from that, I truly believe all good things come.  

Today, Jessica, my "baby" girl, turns 23.  Chris will be 25 in December.  They say that watching your children succeed in life does a parent proud.  That my friends is an understatement.  In August of 2012, both Chris and Jess moved away to school.  Just like that, our house was big and empty.  We were not sure how they would adjust, if they would adjust or what the future would hold.  Let's just say, they adjusted perfectly well.... so well that they did not really come home at all those first few months.  In a way, it was heartbreaking!  Don't they miss us?  Do they hate it at home?  Why do they like being at school better than being at home.  Did we do something wrong?  Were we bad parents? But the reality was this:  We were doing it right!  As a parent, from the moment your children are born, your job is to prepare them to NOT NEED YOU.  I don't mean that in an emotional sense... we ALWAYS need our parents.  But we were readying them for life on their own.  And it was working. 

There really are no words that can describe that feeling you get when you see your children grab hold of their own paths in life and just run with it!  In the past two weeks alone, both of my kids have taken HUGE steps toward their career and life goals.  Jess was promoted to being a lead therapist and accepted into grad school.  Chris just keeps inching toward becoming a police officer.  And it just moves me to tears when, through their own hard work and determination, they actually grab the stars for which they are reaching!!

This is what being a Dad is all about... And I'll see you Wednesday Dad!!

Always look back to see from where you've come!

Also, a very Happy Father's Day in heaven to these two men!!

Peder... thank you for everything you did for all of us. 

BTW, I still cannot teach Chris how to tie a friggin' tie.  Don't know how you did it.

Butch... Thank you for giving me her hand 25 years ago!

I cannot listen to this song without choking up... despite our scattered family tree, the sentiment describes EXACTLY how I was raised, from my grandparents on down!!

It's Not About Winning The Game, It Never Is

Celena Massey celebrates the game she loves

Two out in the seventh, down 8-1, this meaningless home run had more meaning than anything else you will see in the College Softball World Series.  This one home run from a senior, her reaction and the reaction of her teammates and coaches and the tears of pride from her parents remind us that it really is not about winning the game.  It never is.

Goosebumps. #WCWS

In her first at-bat in OKC, Celena Massey blasted a homer for @AggieSoftball! pic.twitter.com/A7Xa9wFKQN

— NCAA Softball (@NCAAsoftball) June 3, 2017

Before yesterday, Celena Massey had just 4 at-bats her senior season (13 ABs the past two seasons combined) with the Aggies, but she kept coming to the games.  A senior catcher, she has been the backup for her whole career, but she kept going to practice.   She had not hit a home run since her sophomore year.  Yesterday in Oklahoma City, her coach, Jo Evans, realized that with one out in the bottom of the seventh and down seven runs, the Aggies season was going to end with the next out.  The careers of her two barely used seniors would also end.  So she sent senior Reagan Boenker (13 at-bats this season) up to pinch hit for the final at-bat of her career.  She grounded out to the shortstop.  And just like that, Reagan's career was over.  Down to her final out, Coach Evans sent Celena to bat and, in an 8-2 loss, Massey gave us the best moment of the entire CSWS.

You see, they play the games to win.  But they play the sport because they love it.  And when everyone in that park celebrated Massey's home run like it had just won the game, they were really celebrating what it means to play a game you love, and to play it until you cannot play it anymore.  Thank you Celena Massey for reminding me what is important in sports.  And congratulations!!!

Celena autographs the home run ball for her biggest fan, her dad, Buck Massey.

They don't look like a team that lost by 6.

Open Letter: A Softball Dad to a Softball Daughter

One Day, This Won’t Be Your Life Anymore.

Admittedly, I stole that line and the inspiration for this letter from something I read online.  Yes, I used a few other beautifully written sentiments from that piece, but those first eight words hit me in the heart pretty hard this week.  This has been your life since you were 8 years old and playing for the Lions of the Hudson Girls Softball League.  We bought you your first pink and black Jennie Finch Mizuno molded cleats to match your pink and black Jennie Finch glove that wouldn't stay on your skinny little hands.  Coach Sarah's clinic gave you the basics of windmill mechanics on the tiled gym floor of the Tabernacle School and here you are 13 years later, captain of your college softball team packing for your final spring training trip to Florida.  From a 9 year old New England ASA champion to a Division 2 college captain with a shit ton of state championships and a few tough losses in between, it has been a helluva whirlwind and we are so happy to have had a front row seat to watch you do your thing.

Where you are now is testament to a drive and resilience that very few young athletes possess.  Regardless of circumstance, you insisted on honing your craft, knowing more than anyone else that you were going to make the most of out of your abilities and your love for the game.  When the easy road would have been to change teams or quit altogether, you faced those challenges quietly, but with a fervor and work ethic that was relentless.  For you, it was ALWAYS your team first, your needs came second.  Countless numbers of young girls take up the game of softball wearing gloves that fall off their skinny hands.  Some girls only play one summer while others sacrifice every summer of their teenage years.  Some walk away before high school, others stop playing before college.  So very few stick with it until the last possible moment - The fact that you will have done just that surprises nobody who knows you.

In a couple of months, you will walk off the field as a player for the last time. You will remove your cleats, put your glove in your bag, with a ball in the pocket of course, and there it will stay for months at a time.  Soon, that bruise on your thigh will fade. You’ll forget the feeling of the seams on your fingertips and the dirt caked in your cleats. You’ll see your teammates once or twice a year instead of every single day. One day you’ll be on the other side the fence watching 9 year old girls who remind you of yourself.

One day, this won’t be your life anymore. And when it’s not, you won’t remember the things that you’d think. You won't remember how many wins or losses.  You will have no idea how many strikeouts you had or how many hits you gave up.  You won't care about your ERA or what pitch was your best pitch.

After your last inning has come and gone, you’re going to remember the times when you wanted to quit— but didn’t. You’re going to remember the teammates (and families) you loved along the way. You're going to remember the nicknames.... Blondie, Loco, Nellie and D-Money!  You’re going to remember playing in the freezing cold, driving rain, unbearable heat and the occasional tornado warning. You’re going to remember the hotel bonding and the four hour road trips. You’re going to remember the 4:00 am wake up calls for tournaments in Connecticut, the early practices and late games. You will remember winning on Saturdays so you could sleep later on Sundays.  You’re going to remember those who didn't believe you were up to the challenge and you are going to remember how hard you worked to prove them wrong.  And you are going to remember those coaches who believed in you, gave you a chance and watched you succeed!

But most of all, you’re going to remember the enjoyment that came from being between two chalk lines with your teammates, with the sun rising on a dew soaked field or setting over the backstop on a chilly September night.  You’re going to remember those moments when you accomplished more than you ever believed you could. You’re going to remember the times you used every bit of talent that God gave you but that you worked endlessly to perfect.

One day this won’t be your life anymore. So for this final season, work as hard as you've ever worked before and then enjoy it twice as much.  Look around at your teammates and coaches and play for them.  Be the first one off the field after the third out and be the first one back on the field ready to go the next inning.  ALSO, look in the mirror and play for yourself - this has been YOUR life for 12 years.  You have worked so hard to get to where you are - finish it with style and grace!! Whether it’s a strikeout on a riseball or a ball that clears the left field fence, give the next pitch everything you have.  For today, commit to every pitch and throw as hard as you can. For today, make every play like it’s the last chance you’ll ever get. For today, play because you want to. Play because you need to. Play because the little girl you used to be fell in love with this game all those years ago. For today, don’t stop until the last pitch is thrown. Play with every piece of your heart and leave it all on the field.

One day, this won’t be your life anymore. 

When that day comes, 
make sure you walk off that field, 

smiling with confidence 

knowing that you would not have changed a thing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Redefining Average - Our Boy Graduates College Tomorrow!

Have you ever known average to be even better than awesome?  I have.

17 years ago on a sunny September morning, Kim and I together walked our toe headed boy into his kindergarten class at Kermit Kiddie College, just a couple hundred steps down the street from our house in Hudson.  Finger painted masterpieces and stitches on his chin, Mrs. B would start him on a journey that has led our boy to where we are today.  Tomorrow, on a cloudy May afternoon, Kim and I will together drive with that same "used-to-be-little" boy 110 miles down the Mass Pike to his college graduation.  Holy shit!!

On his first day of fourth grade at the Library Street School, some twelve years ago, Chris wrote the words you see above in his brand new journal.  We joke with him all the time about being careful never to set his goals too high and his "Yeah, whatever" way of going through life.  But at the same time, that nine-year old who was just hoping to be average has so far surpassed average that there are no words that can properly describe the pride in the hearts of his "mom" and his "dad."  And he was right.  All A's or average, we would be proud!!

Be it in the classroom or on the field, he has turned "average" into a Criminal Justice degree and is a final candidate for a job with the Hudson Police Department.  He turned a smaller than average 42 pound Pop Warner football player into a 200 pound cornerback for the Westfield State University Owls.  He is far from arrogant, but NEVER tell this kid that he cannot do something.

As proud as we are of his hard work and success, it has never been about the classroom or the football field for Kim and me.  It is about what other people say to us about our son.  He is respectful, compassionate and honest.  He is an even-keeled young man who provides stability and reason when shit starts to hit the fan.  He is the first one to step up and deescalate a situation.  Ask Chris to help you with something and he will drop EVERYTHING to help.  Yeah, I'm his dad, so I know I am a bit biased.  A bit??  Okay.  A lot biased.  Whatever.  But I ain't lying.  The kid is some kinda unique!

At some point between 4 and 7 o'clock tomorrow, our son will walk across the stage at the MassMutual Center in Springfield, MA to receive his Bachelor's Degree.  And his father, eyes soaked with tears, will be overtaken with pride.

And I will remember that boy 22 years ago who needed his father to help him stand on his own two feet.  And there he will be, standing on his own, crossing that stage a grown man with the world at his finger tips.  Oh, he's gonna keep doing us proud.  Because THAT is who he is.

I love you Chris.  And congratulations Bud!!