Sorry for my long absence.
My dad passed away in late April, a bit more than a month shy of his 104th birthday. Yes, that’s an amazingly long life, but he comes from a family of very good genes. His dad lived to 102, two of his brothers lived into their 90’s, and…wait for it…his older brother turned 105 in February and is still going strong. The picture above is of the four brothers from 16 years ago (dad was only 88 then!). From left to right, David, the baby, my dad, Sidney, Arthur, the oldest and Mike the second youngest.
I have struggled with this post, which helps explain why it’s been so long since we last posted. My dad was an important figure in my life, and it’s been hard to capture his essence, without making this an epic tome. So I have decided to make this short, and tell one story about Dad that to me, reminds me of his best. For more about my parents, I invite you to re-read my post Parents, from 2021.
In the spring of 1972, when I was a 16 year old tenth grader, I was playing doubles for our high school tennis team. It was the last match of the first half of our season, the team was undefeated, and Marblehead High was in the midst of a 53 match winning streak, dating back over 3 years. The overall score of the match was tied at 2, with our match being the last one to be decided. Our individual match was tied one set apiece, and we were in a decisive third set tiebreaker. To cut to the quick, after losing seven consecutive match points, we lost, and the streak was over. I was inconsolable and refused to leave the court (after shaking hands with our opponents of course). I was literally sobbing in the corner of the court.
My dad, who had been watching the match, and who was not, at the time, the most outwardly affectionate man on the planet, came onto the court, sat down next to me, wrapped his arms around me and offered words of hope and encouragement. I don’t remember the words; all I remember is that they gave me the strength to get up, gather myself together, and move on. (As I type this, my eyes are filled with tears). It was one of the formative moments of my young life, and completely changed my view of my dad.
As an irrelevant post-script, the team never lost again that season, and went on to win our division’s state championship. At the return match against the same team, at the end of the season, we won all five matches and earned redemption.
Life will go on without Sidney, but it’s not the same. Hopefully, the example he set will serve as a guide for the rest of our lives. His legacy will live on.
Great post ripper. Did you have a Wilson T-2000? Can’t believe I remembered the racquet nomenclature. I played but didn’t make HS team. Team was pretty good, winning PA states. Didn’t have a T-2000. That must have been it.
Never played with the T-2000. Worst racket ever made. Amazing that Jimmy Connors did as well as he did with it. Shows you just how talent was.
What a wonderful tribute to your dad. Thanks for posting.
Nice post Larry, you never know when your parents will step up when you need it the most.
Lovely story that shows how genuine men, even very reserved ones, rise to the occasion when it’ is called for.
This is lovely, Larry. Thank you for sharing it, and my heartfelt condolences to your entire family.
I love this memory, Larry.
What a great memory and story to capture your relationship!
So touching, Larry. I bet he treasured this memory as much as you do. Many people don’t learn to appreciate their parents until it is too late. I know that you recognized every day how lucky you were to have your dad with you as long as you did.
Larry, I will remember the fateful day when you learned of Sidney’s death forever. You showed extraordinary personal strength in those subsequent days, and this anecdote shows where it came from.
What a simple but perfect tribute to your Dad.
You chose your father well, Larry … and vise versa.
I think we’ve just read what likely, positively is Larry’s best. Is it coincidence that Senior Ripper’s initials are SR? Larry shared subtle and profound memories from the formidable days. It’s a blessing that he can carry these lessons and memories to well over a half century later. And they’ve helped make the current incarnation of SR the best he can be. P.S. Any reader know the name of the black and white dog member of the tennis team?
Thanks Mike. Oh, and I know the dog’s name.
Larry, great story. Thanks. Assuming you inherited some of those genes, my estimate is that you’re not quite middle-aged yet!
Nice post Larry. I second Buzz’s commendation on your bearing the week of Sidney’s passing. You juggled so many challenges with grace, skill and sincerity. Sidney would have been proud.