The Breakdown: Speechless |

The Breakdown: Speechless

summit daily news
Summit County, Colorado
Sports editor Bryce Evans

As someone who makes their living through words, it’s never a good feeling to be speechless. It’s even worse when you’re clanking on a keyboard and nothing (that makes sense) seems to come out of it.

That’s pretty much where I’m at while writing this.

Granted, there might be a few reasons for the way my mind’s working – or, rather, not working.

Since Tuesday night, I’ve slept about 12 hours – total – most of them on a rubbery couch in a hospital room. And the rest of the time I’ve simply been trying to right myself as my life got turned upside-down.

It might also be that some things are simply impossible to put into words.

So, let’s just put it plainly: At exactly 3 p.m. on Wednesday, my wife gave birth to our first kid, the 1-foot-8, 7-pound Wyatt Henry Evans.

OK, so he’s not quite linebacker size yet, but still, his arrival definitely packed quite a punch.

I’ve always heard fathers say the birth of their first child was the most amazing moment in their life, and, honestly, I always just thought they said that so their wives wouldn’t beat them.

Now? I guess I was wrong. I can’t think of anything that moment could possibly compare to.

So, you’re probably wondering what this possibly has to do with sports, and, well, I’m getting there. As I said, I’m a little off.

As all of you are well aware, today is Father’s Day. And for my entire life, the holiday hasn’t been about gifting neck ties or sitting down for a nice dinner.

Really, it’s about sports, or more specifically about golf.

For those reading that aren’t obsessed with whacking a small white ball into a small white hole, just know that the final round of the U.S. Open always falls on Father’s Day. And, again, for those of you who don’t enjoy hobbies that induce ulcers and heart attacks, the Open is about as good as it gets for watching golf on TV: great courses, great conditions and (usually) a great winner.

And watching that final round with my dad – sometimes after playing a round ourselves – was what the day was all about in my family.

To say golf was a part of my childhood is about the same as saying music was a part of Michael Jackson’s. (You know, except the fame and abuse.) I lived it, loved it and, maybe more importantly, it was probably the biggest part of my relationship with my dad.

Sure, there’s a lot more we have in common and (for lack of a better word) bond over, but golf is definitely a passion that we always shared.

And, while I was able to do a few things in the sport I’m proud of, it was the hours on the range working on my swing, the countless holes we played and even watching it on TV together that are far and away my best memories of the sport.

To understate it completely, I don’t think I will ever touch a club the rest of my life without some thoughts of my dad. (Part of that could also be that roughly half the clubs I own were swiped out of his bag, but that’s beside the point.)

I guess what I’m getting at – and, yes, there is a point to all this – is that sports can be such a crucial part of bringing people together. And they can also be a great way for a dad to teach their kid about life.

I hung on every word my dad said growing up. Really, I still do, and some of the most important lessons I learned growing up were from my dad on a golf course.

There are obviously plenty of ways to bond with your kid outside of sports, and who knows, Wyatt may never have any interest in any of it, but there’s definitely no denying the link – at least for me – between fathers, kids and sports, especially on Father’s Day.

Today, I’ll be watching the U.S. Open with my son in my arms. And the feeling I get from thinking about that, well, let’s just say I don’t have the words to explain it.

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