What I’ll Do for Love

Wasn’t that a song title? It popped into my head when I started to type. Anyway, this about the ultimate sacrifice I made for my brother Jimmy. I made it unselfishly (if I do say so myself), without resentment or regret.

No I didn’t give him a kidney.

I watched an Ohio State Football game with him.

Just to give you a little background, I grew up in Newark, Ohio which is about 30 miles from Columbus, home of OSU. It was the 70’s – the years of Woody Hayes, Archie Griffin and Cornelius Green. My dad would make sure we watched the games whenever they were on TV (remember no ESPN back in the day so it was an event). Lots of cheering, being appalled yet fascinated by Woody Hayes and always watching script Ohio. Other than Notre Dame, which was really a religious obligation to our Irish Catholic family, Ohio State was the epitome of the college football experience.

I however, have always been a rebel. I loved the University of Michigan.

Not loving Ohio State was the equivalent of a mortal sin. And I relished that.

Anywhere around the state of Ohio and especially in Columbus, you never utter the words Michigan or UofM. It’s just asking to get harassed. So while I was a rebel with really no cause, I didn’t flaunt it. I’m not stupid.

Which leads me back to my brother Jimmy. He’s my only and older brother. Jimmy is responsible for every phobia I have, as all good big brothers do to their little sisters. I am afraid of escalators (old men with long fingers will pull you under at the bottom), sidewalk grates (old men live under there and with those same long fingers will pull you through the grate) and elevators (old men are on top of the elevator and when it bounces a little, it’s because they’re cutting the cable so you’ll crash).

Even to this day, I hesitate on all three. While I am aware that my big ass will not fit through the sidewalk grates, I ain’t taking any chances. And one day at an old job of mine, as I went to the bathroom I passed the freight elevator. The doors were open and an old man was standing on top of the car. Scared the shit out of me.

So Jimmy wanted to come up and visit me at my new cottage. My big brother wanted to make sure I was ok. It’s something my dad would have done. I was so excited he was coming up. We realized we haven’t spent any significant time alone, just the two of us, in 40 years.

So when Jimmy called to say he’d be up on Saturday, I said awesome, what time? He replied the Bucks play at 3:30 so in plenty of time for the game. I planned out lots of snack food and dinner and said a few rosarys that I wouldn’t be an ass about OSU.

I didn’t say anything negative, smart assy or snarky. Even when OSU lost so badly to Iowa, I felt bad for Jimmy. That’s his team and he was really bummed. I even tried to cheer him up by watching a “Fast and Furious” movie with him.

So what’s the moral of my story? I guess that if you love your sibling enough, you can keep your damn mouth shut. I’m grateful for the time we had together and the reconnection between us. Family is your roots. It’s where you came from. Sometimes there’s things that families can do to make you crazy (not me, I never bug them at all), you can have huge political and religious differences (we’ve all agreed to just not discuss those things) but man, they’ve got your back. I know that whatever happens to me, Jimmy and my sisters will be there for me without question or hesitation. And I will always be there for them (of course they’re all a lot older than me and say I have to take care of them because I’m the youngest).

And the best part? I worked off at least a couple days in Purgatory watching that game. Thanks Jimmy!