When I was a kid, we lived in Chicago across the street from this amazing park. For those of you who know me, you've probably heard me talk about this park, and in turn, made fun of my Chicago accent while explaining the park. (My buddy Brian does a great impersonation of it...or he sounds like such an idiot, it's funny....either or.) I was the youngest of 4 boys (and we have a little sister), and we spent countless hours at this park playing football, baseball, hockey, golf, I mean any sport imaginable, we played it. The cool thing, too, was that the neighborhood was tight-knit, so we always had enough guys to make a team up. Being the youngest, I got my ass kicked a lot. Be it getting tackled from a bigger guy, or being on the bottom of a "pig-pile"..remember those? I remember this one time, this one kid tried to tackle me, and because I juked him out, and he couldn't get a clean hit, he grab my shirt...in doing so, he ripped it, and scratched me from my throat to my stomach...I was so pissed, I started punching and kicking this kid, but that went no where because I was still a little peanut (and yes, I was crying). I wanted to just leave at this point. I had enough, and every-time I came out here, I went home in tears (Dave Nelson cried?). I remember my oldest brother Chris came over, gave me a hug and said, "Dave, don't leave. Walter Peyton doesn't cry, and he wouldn't quit. Isn't Walter your and mine favorite player? (we loved Sweetness in my household)" Me, "(sniffling) Yes." Chris,"Well, let's make him proud, and score a touchdown on this next play. I'm going to hand you the ball, and you're going to take it to the end-zone. Deal?" Me, "Ok." Chris, "I love you." Me, "You too." Next play, he handed me the ball, and like Sweetness, I took it to the house, spiked it, and was so pumped. And guess who came sprinting down to pick me up, and give me a big high-five and a hug....you got it, Chris.
(5 minute break, the Chris story always chokes me up...be right back)
.....I went on from that day, and always looked up to Chris for his compassion and love he showed me...yes, I was his brother, but also another male.
Throughout my life, up until this very moment, I have been constrained by the male's lack of ability to express himself emotionally. The male species is a very insecure animal. Case and point, if you're a guy reading this, did you just say to yourself "I'm not insecure!! What the hell is Dave talking about. I'm tough, I'm strong, I'm a winner." Yes, we know you are....but you're insecure, and so am I. Instinctively, we're fighters, we self-preserve almost every breath we take. There is no way we can let someone know that we go to church, or that I almost cried at a sad movie (I'm telling you, The Help was a tear-jerker), or that on some days we're feeling blue, or that we want to quit, or we feel like the weight of the world is on our shoulders. We're the hunter-gatherers, and we certainly can't let down the other males in our family...that's a big no-no. I mean, (and please by all means excuse my language....do you excuse me?...see, I needed affirmation) how many times have you called your male friend "A pussy" or "Gay" or "Wimp" or a "Loser"...why do we do this? First and foremost, it's wrong for many, many reasons...I'm probably being called a "pussy" right now for saying this (I'll meet you in the parking lot after this post). We're so concerned with being tough, and speak a big game, but when the rubber hits the road, who are you? Do you run, or do you hide? Do you show compassion and love, or do you put down because you're "tough"?
In isolation, that is the male. When one male's back is against the wall, or that signs of "weakness" are shown, that's how we react, out of insecurity. Any disputes?
But, that actually isn't the male. Huh?
The male is also a hugely misunderstood animal. We misunderstand ourselves, so that doesn't help, but, men have some of the deepest love, and for one another, that in some cases is incomparable to any other type of love. (whoa, where is Dave going?) We have this rock-hard shell around us, but inside is someone who really wants to make a difference, who has deep compassion for the one's around him, and deep passion to make a difference, who is pushed to understand himself, and who has the capacity to believe so deeply in something, that it transforms who they are forever. We live in a society that tells us to hold this all in, and make that outside shell as hard as ever. But that's counter-intuitive to who the male is. Because we're not as dumb as we appear, we've found ways to express our love and passion through many, many ways, one being sports.
When I think back to why I loved football so much, yea scoring touchdowns was cool, and winning was always nice, but it was the guys around me that made it so special. It allowed us to learn about ourselves, learn that we're not alone in this male quest, learn that teamwork was a beautiful thing, that sacrifice spawned togetherness (the harder we each worked, the closer we came together) to the point that to this day, I have no problem openly telling my teammates that I love them, or that I miss them if I haven't seen them....and this is two-way. I get the same response from them as well. And you know what, it feels damn good when I let them know that I love them....because I really do. Without team, and without sacrifice, I'll admit, this is hard to achieve, but something happens, some force greater than 1-individual man, drives him to lay down all of his personal interests, his personal gain, or his personal comfort, for the men around him. And he does this with extreme passion and purpose. I really mean extreme passion and purpose. It's fulfilling, it's meaningful, and that is exactly what drives us men.....and I'll sum it up in one-word.....love.
When I held that trophy high when we won the Patriot League title, I had tears streaming down my face, with plenty of hugs, and probably a couple of kisses for my teammates. Does that make me a wimp? I actually think it makes me a man.
Don't hold your love back. It's debilitating, and it's not the way it's suppose to be....I know this at my core. It's not just about loving your girlfriend, or you wife (love you sweetie), or your family, but about everyone, and being ok with it. Let go...like the old man at church.
Do yourself a favor, reach out to an old teammate or friend, and let them know you love them and that you miss them...I promise you'll be glad you did, because it's what you're really suppose to do. In fact, see if they're on Hey Nelly...because that's why it's there....it allows you be open without reservation.
Are you man enough?
No comments:
Post a Comment