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Steve
Posey (L) and The Director (R) collide in the round robin.
The Director emerged victorious 41-22.
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That's
My Boy!
Those words rang in my ears for hours as I thought about what
I witnessed on Saturday AM, the morning of the games. You see,
several ballers were sitting at the opposite end of the looby
lounge as I set up Nationals communications central. Mr. Winston
McKeever, The Directors father happened to be standing near
where I was just relaxing having a glass of ice water. At the
time The Director was not in the lobby lounge. However, the
topic of the conversation was how The Director was taking someone
apart the night before the games, and no one had even heard
of this guy. He was not a forum regular, he was not bold in
making any predictions. He didn't represent a league nor did
he have a crew he was rolling with. The ballers seemed to be
extremely impressed with The Directors game and was making conversation
of it. Once Mr. McKeever over heard the description of his son,
he immediately stepped in with a gleamining smile on face and
said...."yea, that's my boy." The ballers, surprised,
looked and noticed Mr. McKeever, and showed their amazement,
as they complemented his son's skills. But the look they had
on their faces was more of, "I thought that guy was in
the tournament." Instead, Mr. McKeever was there accompanying
his son.
I
noticed the two walk in together on Friday. They were the first
to arrive at the lobby lounge. As a matter of fact, they were
the first to arrive at all the events each day. The Director
(John), is every bit of 6-3 and 22 years old. Almost the youngest
gun at the tournament, but not quite. I greeted him and his
dad upon their arrival thinking both were ballers in the tourney.
As we introduced ourselves, it turned out John was there to
ball, and dad was there to hang and perhaps coach. Hmmm, I thought
to myself, this is interesting. As I watched them throughout
the weekend, I noticed dad, very much into his son's games.
He was right there, just like he had a 50 yard line seat at
an NFL matchup. The gleam was there. That same gleam you see
on any pro ballers dad face. After a game you would see them
talking as if they were discussing game strategies (I'm only
assuming). Or perhaps the upcoming opponents weakness, and what
type of game plan to employ next. It was like dad was the seasoned
coach with all the wisdom, and the son was taking the wisdom,
merging it with his talent, and together they were winning.
What
is beautiful about this story is that something as trivial in
the world we live in, such as John Madden football, can bring
a father and son out together, to share, bond, and spend quality
time. How many of us could say our dads have ever come to a
Playstation event? Okay, so most of our dads are from the Pong
generation, BUT STILL, wouldn't you love to be able to play
some Madden with your pops. Just as many of the men in that
room probably can't wait until their sons (or even daughters)
are old enough to understand a zone from man, to throw the joysticks
in their kids hands and get it on in the family.
I
saw something special that made me realize that the draw to
this game is finding something in all of us that brings out
more than just the competitive spirit we have. Sure we go because
we want to win, sure we are driven to be able to say we are
the best. But John and his dad working together at nationals
was bigger than just being the best. The ambiance of the tourney
is bigger than winning and losing. It is something special and
unique when you can take nearly 50 testosterone filled guys,
that will do just about anything to win, and hold an event whereby
winning is the objective, but if you fall in route, you have
still had a great time. When you gather that feeling, you know
then that this game transcends the simplistic competitive desires
we have stored in us. And that is what is making nationals more
than just a tournament....it is becoming an event.
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