njjen3953
4th Level Orange Feather
- Joined
- Apr 18, 2001
- Messages
- 2,858
- Points
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The pundits will pick over the World Series, they'll dissect the nearly
Homeric tragedy of the sixth game and how the Giants' had all but won the
series before the Angels, at the last moment, snatched it away.
But what I'll remember most was the kiss. During the fift inning, 39-year-
old Shawon Dunston, in the biggest hit of his career, smacked a two-run
homer. Right after touching home plate, his large frame bent down to give
his 9-year- old, Shawon Jr., a kiss.
In the next inning, the incomparable Barry Bonds did what we'd all expected:
He hit a homer, giving the Giants a comfortable 4-0 lead. At home plate,
he, too, gave his 12-year-old son Nikolai a kiss. Not much and yet so much.
I couldn't help but think of generations of African American males
separated first by slavery and then by custom from their wives and
children. The kisses showed more than 21st-century African American fathers
tending to their sons. It showed us that there's a better way. A better way
than the sitcom dad and his little man of a son. A better way than the
Saturday soccer dad: He cheers; he hollers, he provides unsolicited advice.
And when the boy blasts the ball past the goalie, Dad's big right arm arcs
over, slapping him on the back, or, for very special moments, shoving it
forward with a we're-all-tough-guys-here handshake.
Had the Giants won the World Series, reporters would be dashing off tales
of the dugout day-care center. But since the Giants lost, criticism could
be heaped on manager Dusty Baker for making his round-faced 3-year-old son,
Darren, a batboy and for letting him and the other sons of players romp
around the dugout. At times, the camera captured little boys snuggling with
their dads, while the game played on.
Until recently, such closeness would have been seen as weakness. Fathers
were supposed to maintain their distance from their kids. Child raising was
women's work. Real men didn't take their sons to work. Real men showed sons
how to be men, unemotional men. And while baseball teams have long had
batboys, a father's affection was never part of the scene.
These fathers showed us something else, too. They didn't just hug their
Madison Avenue cute toddlers, they loved their adolescent sons as well.
Just before the boys rebel, before they confront their dads and tell them
they're not impressed with them any longer, before they go skateboarding
into the real world, the fathers make sure the sons are well rooted, and
they kiss them again.
The kiss of the Giants said so much. It showed not only that tough guys
love their sons, but also that our sports icons can unabashedly love them,
and show that tenderness, publicly. And while it was only a few men and
their sons, men who ultimately lost the sixth game, 6-5, and the World
Series, in the end they brought a better way home.
Homeric tragedy of the sixth game and how the Giants' had all but won the
series before the Angels, at the last moment, snatched it away.
But what I'll remember most was the kiss. During the fift inning, 39-year-
old Shawon Dunston, in the biggest hit of his career, smacked a two-run
homer. Right after touching home plate, his large frame bent down to give
his 9-year- old, Shawon Jr., a kiss.
In the next inning, the incomparable Barry Bonds did what we'd all expected:
He hit a homer, giving the Giants a comfortable 4-0 lead. At home plate,
he, too, gave his 12-year-old son Nikolai a kiss. Not much and yet so much.
I couldn't help but think of generations of African American males
separated first by slavery and then by custom from their wives and
children. The kisses showed more than 21st-century African American fathers
tending to their sons. It showed us that there's a better way. A better way
than the sitcom dad and his little man of a son. A better way than the
Saturday soccer dad: He cheers; he hollers, he provides unsolicited advice.
And when the boy blasts the ball past the goalie, Dad's big right arm arcs
over, slapping him on the back, or, for very special moments, shoving it
forward with a we're-all-tough-guys-here handshake.
Had the Giants won the World Series, reporters would be dashing off tales
of the dugout day-care center. But since the Giants lost, criticism could
be heaped on manager Dusty Baker for making his round-faced 3-year-old son,
Darren, a batboy and for letting him and the other sons of players romp
around the dugout. At times, the camera captured little boys snuggling with
their dads, while the game played on.
Until recently, such closeness would have been seen as weakness. Fathers
were supposed to maintain their distance from their kids. Child raising was
women's work. Real men didn't take their sons to work. Real men showed sons
how to be men, unemotional men. And while baseball teams have long had
batboys, a father's affection was never part of the scene.
These fathers showed us something else, too. They didn't just hug their
Madison Avenue cute toddlers, they loved their adolescent sons as well.
Just before the boys rebel, before they confront their dads and tell them
they're not impressed with them any longer, before they go skateboarding
into the real world, the fathers make sure the sons are well rooted, and
they kiss them again.
The kiss of the Giants said so much. It showed not only that tough guys
love their sons, but also that our sports icons can unabashedly love them,
and show that tenderness, publicly. And while it was only a few men and
their sons, men who ultimately lost the sixth game, 6-5, and the World
Series, in the end they brought a better way home.
