My social and familial ostracizing began with Hockey Night In Canada around the television set. My favourite player was Bobby Hull and I cheered for the Chicago Blackhawks. This puts me at odds with my father and my brother who cheered for the Leafs or the Bruins or who knows who, but it wasn't the Blackhawks. When spring came and the ice melted, I cheered for Johnny Bench and the Cincinnati Big Red Machine. My dad and my brother were both Dodger blue. At a more grown up age, I was a rabid Expos fan while my dad was still blue, but now Toronto blue.
Now, with a Boy of my own, I try to cheer for whoever he's cheering for, but on the day of the Superbowl, wouldn't you know it, we landed on opposite sides. Both he and his grandfather were rooting for the Bears.
So there I was, literally and physically apart from my Dad (again) and my son as they sat together in the comfy armchair watching the game and I by myself on the couch. The Bears scored first on the very first play and there was great crowing from the armchair. Then as the Colts scored and the tide seemed maybe to shift a bit, my son left my Dad's lap and came to sit with me.
He grinned at me, farted on my thigh and went back to sit with his granddad.
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