With the World Cup bringing people together from all over the world, I’ve been thinking about my father and his lifelong love of football.
Not American football.
The original football.
English football.
Growing up, Saturday and Sunday mornings often meant hearing a soccer match playing on the radio. My British father would sit and listen intently, following every moment of the game. As a child, I didn’t really understand why it mattered so much to him. I just knew that when his team won, he was so happy and elated that that joy expanded to all of of us.
It wasn’t until I became an adult that I understood football was about much more than a game.
My father grew up in England after World War II. He was raised in a council house in a working-class community that was still recovering from the hardships of war. Life wasn’t easy. People were rebuilding not only their homes and neighborhoods but also their sense of hope for the future.
And in the middle of all of that, there was football.
His team, Grimsby Town, was everything to him.
Football gave people something to look forward to. It brought communities together. It gave working-class families pride and children a reason to dream. Even today, at 87 years old, my father can tell stories about players from his youth, important matches, and specific moments on the field that he remembers with incredible detail.
What strikes me most is that those memories are never just about the game itself. They are about what the game represented.
Hope.
Belonging.
Community.
The belief that something extraordinary could happen.
Last year, when Grimsby Town defeated Manchester United in a dramatic penalty shootout, my father beamed with pride. He wrote all of us, his three children with the dramatic words of “Something spectacular just happened…” When I saw him shortly after the excitement on his face reminded me of the young boy who once followed that same team decades ago.
Watching him celebrate, I realized something.
My father has always rooted for the underdog because he was one.
As a young man, he struggled with a significant stutter. Through determination and perseverance, he overcame it on his own. He built a successful life, crossed an ocean, raised a family, and never stopped moving forward despite challenges.
Like the team he loves, he believed that ordinary people can accomplish extraordinary things.
As we celebrate Father’s Day and enjoy the excitement of the World Cup, I find myself appreciating what football gave my father. It gave him joy during difficult times. It gave him a connection to his community. It gave him memories that have lasted a lifetime.
Most of all, it gave him hope.
At The Awakening Center, we often talk about the importance of connection and belonging. Whether it comes through family, friendships, community, nature, faith, or even a beloved football team, we all need something that reminds us we are part of something larger than ourselves.
Those connections help us through difficult times. They remind us who we are. They give us resilience.
This Father’s Day, I’m grateful for the lessons my father taught me- not just about football, but about finding joy in community, perseverance, and hope.
And if there is one lesson he has lived his entire life, it is this:
Never underestimate what ordinary people can achieve when they refuse to give up.
