I miss the place, and I’d never talked to a fellow expatriate — and I run into more than I ever expected — who doesn’t miss it, too.
(Although I’ve heard about this year’s winter, and let’s just say I don’t pine for my snow shovel.)
As life has moved on, I’ve been lucky to enjoy a new life in Atlanta, but I keep connected to Dayton through the friends, the most enduring part of my time there. Also, each of my three children has returned to attend the University of Dayton, so I’ve had the perfect excuse to visit.
But what really keeps me connected are the Flyers. And this run to within one game of the Final Four has reminded me of some powerful things, and what I really miss.
It’s not at all unusual for me to use my iPhone to listen to WHIO radio’s live stream of a game, the voices of Larry Hansgen and Bucky Bockhorn blaring through my house.
If I close my eyes, in the background noise I’m sure I recognize the shouts of friends from the stands during the game — or at least the voice of that one crazy guy who seems to always be yelling at the officials.
I can hear the pep band, and the familiar chant of “Goooo Daaayton Fly-ERS!”
And I can imagine that I’m in my seats at UD Arena, in the lower corner section across from the Flyer bench. I can see my friend, Vince, the usher.
After another exhausting, too-close-for-comfort finish (why are they always that way?), I can picture the traffic on the Stewart Street bridge before I make it across. I can wonder which of my friends will make that impulsive trip to the Pine Club for a late-night cheeseburger, as I so often did.
From afar, this is a thrill to watch.
I know how much you’re enjoying it.
It’s your hometown team, finally getting a chance on the national stage and really showing the world something inspiring. For decades you’ve sought — no, deserved — this kind of recognition. You’re reveling in a team of regular kids, not spoiled big-time recruits. You’re supporting a program from which most all of them will earn degrees. You’re a deservedly proud town.
How can I not wish I was there with you?
For me, this all reminds me of how important those old connections are. Old friends remind all of us of who we are and what’s important to us. The Flyers have given me the occasion to make a call, send an e-mail or fire off a text to some old friends. And their run has shown my new friends more about me, to see what my loyalty looks like.
We show a lot about ourselves when the team we love has big victory, or when we’re faced with bouncing back after the tough loss.
I’m trying to remind myself that this tournament ends in disappointment for 67 of the 68 teams, and their fans.
But no matter how it ends, I won’t be disappointed. I’ll carry this around forever.
I hope I see some of you in Memphis, where I’ll meet my son and my old UD roommate. If you’re there, I’ll be the guy in the over-sized “Flyers” pull-over. I’m proud to wear it again.
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