A Seahawks fan’s thoughts on his dad, the Raiders fan, on Father’s Day

I am a Seahawks fan. I write this letter to my father, the Raiders fan, on Father’s Day about how his love of sports helped bring us together and drew us apart.

My father and I had few things in common and a lot of things not so common. Sports was always one we did but we differed even on which teams we followed. My father passed away earlier this year. He hadn’t been healthy in some time and while deaths are always a bit surprising two things were not: I was a Seahawks fan and my father was a Raiders fan. This is something we simply agreed to disagree on.

My dad was not a bad guy. He had different views than I did in a lot of ways and we didn’t talk politics. Ever. That would have been bad. But my father was also a person of a different generation, born during World War II and I was born post-Beatles. We were different people and we always were going to be.

My father provided, though. Every night when he got home from work we sat down at 5 pm and ate. He didn’t talk about his day much and I probably talked more about myself than I should because I was a kid. Those were great days before I became an adult and the world made me realize life wasn’t always so good.

Don’t think we were like Kevin Costner and his father figure in Field of Dreams. I played catch with my father until I was probably 12 or so. At the time we both had the same favorite baseball team, the Los Angeles Dodgers. My dad was a Sandy Koufax fan. I was a Steve Garvey fan. As I said, we were from different generations.

But football was where we digressed. There was no way I was ever going to be a Raiders fan. They were evil to me. Now the Raiders are simply the new Browns and I dislike them less. Even my father near the end was not the Raiders fan he once was. But my father also never would have appreciated players who were outspoken like Richard Sherman and Doug Baldwin. He liked his players to play the game and not comment on social injustice and simply just win, baby.

But the thing about this Father’s Day is this. Maybe my dad didn’t like my favorite team and I didn’t like his. But there was a bond that every father and son or daughter should have when you buy tickets to a game and sit next to your dad and share the common experience of watching a sporting event unfold that can’t be measured. In the end, it didn’t matter who won. What mattered was you had the shared experience with your father. I may not ever have that time again, but I will always have the memories. And that’s what is more important than anything else.