Timing is funny in life sometimes. I had ready to publish an article on the pressures of going into a season dedicated to a cause with forces you cannot control. In particular, Rex and Rob’s cocktail of weight gain and winning a ring to prove their family’s worth to football had been eating at me.
Then, the news rolled in of Buddy’s passing. I want to give my condolences to the Ryans, as losing your dad, your hero is something that shakes us all. At 82, Buddy may have had a long life, but the end was filled with the pain of fighting cancer and deteriorating health overall and having seen my parents deal with that with my grandparents, it’s a nightmare.
I look at my son, who will imitate anything and everything I do and say – and I want him to be better than I am, I was, I will be. I want him to go places I didn’t and if he were to coach or teach or dance or whatever, do it because he loves it and not because I did it. And I think of how hard Buddy pushed his boys not to coach and when they pushed back how he must’ve felt…was it pride? fear? A mix? And how much he must’ve held his tongue at times to let them make their own mistakes as coaches, as men.
I can only imagine the stress that Rex and Rob are going to put themselves through to make that man proud. I do know, without having talked to Mr. Ryan once, he was proud of you two. Very few kids get into a “family business” like football and ascend to the heights of coordinator, head coach, Super Bowl champs without their dad beaming inside and out.
We get on Rex for his bloviating and his focused attention…to getting attention, but as my mom jokes “he got it honest” – that is to say, he got it from his dad. Rex and Rob are as much a product of their dad’s defensive genius and gift of gab as Bill Belichick is for his dad’s preparedness and attention to detail. Or in my case, my dad’s willingness to dive headlong into any interest he has to the atomic level. I got that honest, because without it I wouldn’t be, tears in my eyes, writing as the editor of this blog about someone else’s dad and how much that is affecting me both as a fan and as a son.
In our best ways (and worst ways) we are all a shadow of our parents – and the noise of sports sometimes makes it easy to forget what is on someone else’s plate after the game is over and the cameras are gone. I truly hope the Ryans can mourn, remember their dad and not put an all-or-nothing edict on this season.
Your dad was worth more than one season of football.
Rest in peace Coach Ryan. Your sons, crazy as they are – idolized you and I wish them well in honoring your name.
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