Goodbye to a great Cowboys fan

[StarBoyz83]

I'm sorry to hear that. I lost my dad 2 1/2 years ago.

 

[J_Allen]

I'm so sorry to hear this. The man who introduced me was also my father. I'll never forget Christmas morning of 198. I walked out from my bedroom and saw a Cowboys jersey with a Cowboys helmet hanging from the mantle. It's the first gift I ever remember getting.

My father is still here thankfully, but if he lives to be 91 I'll only have about 18 years left with him. One of these saddest things about growing older is losing the people around you. No one tells you how hard it is.

 

[chagus]

Early Monday morning, July 6th, the man who introduced me to football and to the Dallas Cowboys passed away peacefully in a memory care facility in Fort Worth. He was 91. That man was my father. And he was my hero.

Sixty two years ago this October, my Dad scored two tickets to the Dallas Cowboys vs Cleveland Browns game at the Cotton Bowl. A friend he worked with was an early Cowboys season ticket holder, and he was unable to go to the game that Sunday. So Dad got the tickets and took me - a six year old first grader. And it was a memory I will never forget.

I was so excited that day, holding my Dad’s hand as we walked up the ramp to our seats near the 35 yard line on the west side of the stadium. The grass on the Cotton Bowl floor was the most beautiful green I had ever seen. The silver helmets and pants of the Cowboys’ uniforms were mesmerizing.

We arrived early enough to watch the teams do their pre-game warm-up routines. A ritual I still do to this day when go to any football game. Watching the two teams warm up always gives me a good sense of the teams‘ size, camaraderie and swagger.

I got to see the great HOF RB Jim Brown that day rush for 188 yards in a 20-14 Browns win. Cleveland went on to win the NFL championship that year, the last time they won it all. But I became a lifetime Cowboys fan that day.

In 1967, when I was 9 years old, I had my first serious sports cry when the Cowboys lost their Ice Bowl playoff game in Green Bay. I was so distraught I went outside to cry. My Dad came out to check on me and he patted me on the back gently and helped me understand that sports can mirror life with both joy and heartbreak. Winning is that much sweeter when you’ve experienced the disappointment of loss.

Over the years, my Dad took my younger brother and I to Cowboys games at Texas Stadium too. We saw one of the first games played in Texas Stadium in 1971 when the Cowboys beat the Jets (without Joe Namath) 52-10. My Dad, brother and I watched the Cowboys (on TV) win their first Super Bowl in January, 1972 when we beat the Dolphins 24-3.

I couldn’t count how many Cowboys games I watched with my Dad. We always had fun and somehow I always felt a kinship and love that was a unique bond between a son and a father. It was both safe and enlightening.

My father was a good man. He effortlessly taught his sons that Football was a metaphor of the toughness and challenge that life brings. But when we were together, we also learned that a Fathers love makes life more visible through a clearer lens. He never took sports too seriously. Another lesson he imparted.

The loss of my father is painful, even for an old man like me at 68. But the pain of loss is eased in knowing I had a wonderful father who always took the time to love his family. My love of the Cowboys started back in 1964 in the Cotton Bowl while holding my Dad’s strong hand. As the Cowboys launch another season this fall, I will be thinking of him before each kickoff.

My first sports hero was Bullet Bob Hayes, a great Cowboys player I saw play many times as a kid. His poster adorned my wall. He was certainly my first favorite Cowboys player. But actually as I reflect tonight, my first real and forever hero will always be my Dad.

May he rest in glory. Thanks Dad for everything.
Go Cowboys!

Sorry for your loss, bud. I know exactly how you feel about a father and sons unique connection with the Dallas Cowboys. Its a beautiful thing. You are blessed, my friend. Go Cowboys, indeed!!

 

[ksadler1]

Such a great memory Bob. So sorry for your loss. I'm not too far behind you in age. My grandfather introduced me to the Cowboys. As a little boy, l remember people saying that "Texas Stadium had no roof so God could watch his favorite team." Hang in there my friend. God Bless

 

[curboys]

Sorry to hear of your loss. My sincere condolences to you and other family members. May your memories comfort you. May your father rest in peace.

 

[Momanpr100]

R.I.P

 

[CowboysLakerBamaFan]

Early Monday morning, July 6th, the man who introduced me to football and to the Dallas Cowboys passed away peacefully in a memory care facility in Fort Worth. He was 91. That man was my father. And he was my hero.

Sixty two years ago this October, my Dad scored two tickets to the Dallas Cowboys vs Cleveland Browns game at the Cotton Bowl. A friend he worked with was an early Cowboys season ticket holder, and he was unable to go to the game that Sunday. So Dad got the tickets and took me - a six year old first grader. And it was a memory I will never forget.

I was so excited that day, holding my Dad’s hand as we walked up the ramp to our seats near the 35 yard line on the west side of the stadium. The grass on the Cotton Bowl floor was the most beautiful green I had ever seen. The silver helmets and pants of the Cowboys’ uniforms were mesmerizing.

We arrived early enough to watch the teams do their pre-game warm-up routines. A ritual I still do to this day when go to any football game. Watching the two teams warm up always gives me a good sense of the teams‘ size, camaraderie and swagger.

I got to see the great HOF RB Jim Brown that day rush for 188 yards in a 20-14 Browns win. Cleveland went on to win the NFL championship that year, the last time they won it all. But I became a lifetime Cowboys fan that day.

In 1967, when I was 9 years old, I had my first serious sports cry when the Cowboys lost their Ice Bowl playoff game in Green Bay. I was so distraught I went outside to cry. My Dad came out to check on me and he patted me on the back gently and helped me understand that sports can mirror life with both joy and heartbreak. Winning is that much sweeter when you’ve experienced the disappointment of loss.

Over the years, my Dad took my younger brother and I to Cowboys games at Texas Stadium too. We saw one of the first games played in Texas Stadium in 1971 when the Cowboys beat the Jets (without Joe Namath) 52-10. My Dad, brother and I watched the Cowboys (on TV) win their first Super Bowl in January, 1972 when we beat the Dolphins 24-3.

I couldn’t count how many Cowboys games I watched with my Dad. We always had fun and somehow I always felt a kinship and love that was a unique bond between a son and a father. It was both safe and enlightening.

My father was a good man. He effortlessly taught his sons that Football was a metaphor of the toughness and challenge that life brings. But when we were together, we also learned that a Fathers love makes life more visible through a clearer lens. He never took sports too seriously. Another lesson he imparted.

The loss of my father is painful, even for an old man like me at 68. But the pain of loss is eased in knowing I had a wonderful father who always took the time to love his family. My love of the Cowboys started back in 1964 in the Cotton Bowl while holding my Dad’s strong hand. As the Cowboys launch another season this fall, I will be thinking of him before each kickoff.

My first sports hero was Bullet Bob Hayes, a great Cowboys player I saw play many times as a kid. His poster adorned my wall. He was certainly my first favorite Cowboys player. But actually as I reflect tonight, my first real and forever hero will always be my Dad.

May he rest in glory. Thanks Dad for everything.
Go Cowboys!

Thoughts and prayers

 

[DannyWestwood]

Early Monday morning, July 6th, the man who introduced me to football and to the Dallas Cowboys passed away peacefully in a memory care facility in Fort Worth. He was 91. That man was my father. And he was my hero.

Sixty two years ago this October, my Dad scored two tickets to the Dallas Cowboys vs Cleveland Browns game at the Cotton Bowl. A friend he worked with was an early Cowboys season ticket holder, and he was unable to go to the game that Sunday. So Dad got the tickets and took me - a six year old first grader. And it was a memory I will never forget.

I was so excited that day, holding my Dad’s hand as we walked up the ramp to our seats near the 35 yard line on the west side of the stadium. The grass on the Cotton Bowl floor was the most beautiful green I had ever seen. The silver helmets and pants of the Cowboys’ uniforms were mesmerizing.

We arrived early enough to watch the teams do their pre-game warm-up routines. A ritual I still do to this day when go to any football game. Watching the two teams warm up always gives me a good sense of the teams‘ size, camaraderie and swagger.

I got to see the great HOF RB Jim Brown that day rush for 188 yards in a 20-14 Browns win. Cleveland went on to win the NFL championship that year, the last time they won it all. But I became a lifetime Cowboys fan that day.

In 1967, when I was 9 years old, I had my first serious sports cry when the Cowboys lost their Ice Bowl playoff game in Green Bay. I was so distraught I went outside to cry. My Dad came out to check on me and he patted me on the back gently and helped me understand that sports can mirror life with both joy and heartbreak. Winning is that much sweeter when you’ve experienced the disappointment of loss.

Over the years, my Dad took my younger brother and I to Cowboys games at Texas Stadium too. We saw one of the first games played in Texas Stadium in 1971 when the Cowboys beat the Jets (without Joe Namath) 52-10. My Dad, brother and I watched the Cowboys (on TV) win their first Super Bowl in January, 1972 when we beat the Dolphins 24-3.

I couldn’t count how many Cowboys games I watched with my Dad. We always had fun and somehow I always felt a kinship and love that was a unique bond between a son and a father. It was both safe and enlightening.

My father was a good man. He effortlessly taught his sons that Football was a metaphor of the toughness and challenge that life brings. But when we were together, we also learned that a Fathers love makes life more visible through a clearer lens. He never took sports too seriously. Another lesson he imparted.

The loss of my father is painful, even for an old man like me at 68. But the pain of loss is eased in knowing I had a wonderful father who always took the time to love his family. My love of the Cowboys started back in 1964 in the Cotton Bowl while holding my Dad’s strong hand. As the Cowboys launch another season this fall, I will be thinking of him before each kickoff.

My first sports hero was Bullet Bob Hayes, a great Cowboys player I saw play many times as a kid. His poster adorned my wall. He was certainly my first favorite Cowboys player. But actually as I reflect tonight, my first real and forever hero will always be my Dad.

May he rest in glory. Thanks Dad for everything.
Go Cowboys!

What a beautiful write-up-thank you for sharing. I’m happy to read that you were blessed with a wonderful father. You must have brought him a lot of joy. Until you see each other again……

 

[cowboyschmps3]

Early Monday morning, July 6th, the man who introduced me to football and to the Dallas Cowboys passed away peacefully in a memory care facility in Fort Worth. He was 91. That man was my father. And he was my hero.

Sixty two years ago this October, my Dad scored two tickets to the Dallas Cowboys vs Cleveland Browns game at the Cotton Bowl. A friend he worked with was an early Cowboys season ticket holder, and he was unable to go to the game that Sunday. So Dad got the tickets and took me - a six year old first grader. And it was a memory I will never forget.

I was so excited that day, holding my Dad’s hand as we walked up the ramp to our seats near the 35 yard line on the west side of the stadium. The grass on the Cotton Bowl floor was the most beautiful green I had ever seen. The silver helmets and pants of the Cowboys’ uniforms were mesmerizing.

We arrived early enough to watch the teams do their pre-game warm-up routines. A ritual I still do to this day when go to any football game. Watching the two teams warm up always gives me a good sense of the teams‘ size, camaraderie and swagger.

I got to see the great HOF RB Jim Brown that day rush for 188 yards in a 20-14 Browns win. Cleveland went on to win the NFL championship that year, the last time they won it all. But I became a lifetime Cowboys fan that day.

In 1967, when I was 9 years old, I had my first serious sports cry when the Cowboys lost their Ice Bowl playoff game in Green Bay. I was so distraught I went outside to cry. My Dad came out to check on me and he patted me on the back gently and helped me understand that sports can mirror life with both joy and heartbreak. Winning is that much sweeter when you’ve experienced the disappointment of loss.

Over the years, my Dad took my younger brother and I to Cowboys games at Texas Stadium too. We saw one of the first games played in Texas Stadium in 1971 when the Cowboys beat the Jets (without Joe Namath) 52-10. My Dad, brother and I watched the Cowboys (on TV) win their first Super Bowl in January, 1972 when we beat the Dolphins 24-3.

I couldn’t count how many Cowboys games I watched with my Dad. We always had fun and somehow I always felt a kinship and love that was a unique bond between a son and a father. It was both safe and enlightening.

My father was a good man. He effortlessly taught his sons that Football was a metaphor of the toughness and challenge that life brings. But when we were together, we also learned that a Fathers love makes life more visible through a clearer lens. He never took sports too seriously. Another lesson he imparted.

The loss of my father is painful, even for an old man like me at 68. But the pain of loss is eased in knowing I had a wonderful father who always took the time to love his family. My love of the Cowboys started back in 1964 in the Cotton Bowl while holding my Dad’s strong hand. As the Cowboys launch another season this fall, I will be thinking of him before each kickoff.

My first sports hero was Bullet Bob Hayes, a great Cowboys player I saw play many times as a kid. His poster adorned my wall. He was certainly my first favorite Cowboys player. But actually as I reflect tonight, my first real and forever hero will always be my Dad.

May he rest in glory. Thanks Dad for everything.
Go Cowboys!

Sorry for your loss, May He Rest in Peace. Keep making him proud.

 

[SlammedZero]

Sorry to hear about your dad, Bob. 91 years is one heck of a journey. Sounds like he passed along more than just being a Cowboys fan...he passed along memories that you'll carry with you forever. Wishing you and your family the best.

 

[plasticman]

I am sorry for your loss. He was obviously a fantastic father and he raised a great son based on my interactions with you.

May he rest in peace...

 

[MoistMayonnaise]

@Bobhaze
Sorry to hear about your dad.

 

[alicetooljam]

Prayers of peace for all who loved him.

 

[zekecowboy]

And to be clear, its not that a boy is DOA without a father, it just seems like a big hurdle.

In the father's day thread I wrote a shout out to the step-dads that do a very difficult job but can be a difference maker.

As for me, I couldn't imagine raising a daughter without a woman's help......big shout out to those dudes too.

Shabazz- Its a tough job raising a daughter by myself but I am doing it.

 

[nobody]

Early Monday morning, July 6th, the man who introduced me to football and to the Dallas Cowboys passed away peacefully in a memory care facility in Fort Worth. He was 91. That man was my father. And he was my hero.

Sixty two years ago this October, my Dad scored two tickets to the Dallas Cowboys vs Cleveland Browns game at the Cotton Bowl. A friend he worked with was an early Cowboys season ticket holder, and he was unable to go to the game that Sunday. So Dad got the tickets and took me - a six year old first grader. And it was a memory I will never forget.

I was so excited that day, holding my Dad’s hand as we walked up the ramp to our seats near the 35 yard line on the west side of the stadium. The grass on the Cotton Bowl floor was the most beautiful green I had ever seen. The silver helmets and pants of the Cowboys’ uniforms were mesmerizing.

We arrived early enough to watch the teams do their pre-game warm-up routines. A ritual I still do to this day when go to any football game. Watching the two teams warm up always gives me a good sense of the teams‘ size, camaraderie and swagger.

I got to see the great HOF RB Jim Brown that day rush for 188 yards in a 20-14 Browns win. Cleveland went on to win the NFL championship that year, the last time they won it all. But I became a lifetime Cowboys fan that day.

In 1967, when I was 9 years old, I had my first serious sports cry when the Cowboys lost their Ice Bowl playoff game in Green Bay. I was so distraught I went outside to cry. My Dad came out to check on me and he patted me on the back gently and helped me understand that sports can mirror life with both joy and heartbreak. Winning is that much sweeter when you’ve experienced the disappointment of loss.

Over the years, my Dad took my younger brother and I to Cowboys games at Texas Stadium too. We saw one of the first games played in Texas Stadium in 1971 when the Cowboys beat the Jets (without Joe Namath) 52-10. My Dad, brother and I watched the Cowboys (on TV) win their first Super Bowl in January, 1972 when we beat the Dolphins 24-3.

I couldn’t count how many Cowboys games I watched with my Dad. We always had fun and somehow I always felt a kinship and love that was a unique bond between a son and a father. It was both safe and enlightening.

My father was a good man. He effortlessly taught his sons that Football was a metaphor of the toughness and challenge that life brings. But when we were together, we also learned that a Fathers love makes life more visible through a clearer lens. He never took sports too seriously. Another lesson he imparted.

The loss of my father is painful, even for an old man like me at 68. But the pain of loss is eased in knowing I had a wonderful father who always took the time to love his family. My love of the Cowboys started back in 1964 in the Cotton Bowl while holding my Dad’s strong hand. As the Cowboys launch another season this fall, I will be thinking of him before each kickoff.

My first sports hero was Bullet Bob Hayes, a great Cowboys player I saw play many times as a kid. His poster adorned my wall. He was certainly my first favorite Cowboys player. But actually as I reflect tonight, my first real and forever hero will always be my Dad.

May he rest in glory. Thanks Dad for everything.
Go Cowboys!

My condolences for your loss. There are no words. Even after a long life well lived, it doesn't hurt less. Rest in Peace, Bob's dad

 

[Beaker42]

Early Monday morning, July 6th, the man who introduced me to football and to the Dallas Cowboys passed away peacefully in a memory care facility in Fort Worth. He was 91. That man was my father. And he was my hero.

Sixty two years ago this October, my Dad scored two tickets to the Dallas Cowboys vs Cleveland Browns game at the Cotton Bowl. A friend he worked with was an early Cowboys season ticket holder, and he was unable to go to the game that Sunday. So Dad got the tickets and took me - a six year old first grader. And it was a memory I will never forget.

I was so excited that day, holding my Dad’s hand as we walked up the ramp to our seats near the 35 yard line on the west side of the stadium. The grass on the Cotton Bowl floor was the most beautiful green I had ever seen. The silver helmets and pants of the Cowboys’ uniforms were mesmerizing.

We arrived early enough to watch the teams do their pre-game warm-up routines. A ritual I still do to this day when go to any football game. Watching the two teams warm up always gives me a good sense of the teams‘ size, camaraderie and swagger.

I got to see the great HOF RB Jim Brown that day rush for 188 yards in a 20-14 Browns win. Cleveland went on to win the NFL championship that year, the last time they won it all. But I became a lifetime Cowboys fan that day.

In 1967, when I was 9 years old, I had my first serious sports cry when the Cowboys lost their Ice Bowl playoff game in Green Bay. I was so distraught I went outside to cry. My Dad came out to check on me and he patted me on the back gently and helped me understand that sports can mirror life with both joy and heartbreak. Winning is that much sweeter when you’ve experienced the disappointment of loss.

Over the years, my Dad took my younger brother and I to Cowboys games at Texas Stadium too. We saw one of the first games played in Texas Stadium in 1971 when the Cowboys beat the Jets (without Joe Namath) 52-10. My Dad, brother and I watched the Cowboys (on TV) win their first Super Bowl in January, 1972 when we beat the Dolphins 24-3.

I couldn’t count how many Cowboys games I watched with my Dad. We always had fun and somehow I always felt a kinship and love that was a unique bond between a son and a father. It was both safe and enlightening.

My father was a good man. He effortlessly taught his sons that Football was a metaphor of the toughness and challenge that life brings. But when we were together, we also learned that a Fathers love makes life more visible through a clearer lens. He never took sports too seriously. Another lesson he imparted.

The loss of my father is painful, even for an old man like me at 68. But the pain of loss is eased in knowing I had a wonderful father who always took the time to love his family. My love of the Cowboys started back in 1964 in the Cotton Bowl while holding my Dad’s strong hand. As the Cowboys launch another season this fall, I will be thinking of him before each kickoff.

My first sports hero was Bullet Bob Hayes, a great Cowboys player I saw play many times as a kid. His poster adorned my wall. He was certainly my first favorite Cowboys player. But actually as I reflect tonight, my first real and forever hero will always be my Dad.

May he rest in glory. Thanks Dad for everything.
Go Cowboys!

So sorry for your loss. He’s going to some pretty good games in Heaven. Thoughts and prayers, friend.

 

[Canada180]

My sincere and heartfelt condolences to you and Family.

 

[Montanalo]

Sorry for your loss... what great memories, though.

 

[acr731]

Sorry for your loss, Bob.

I hesitated to share because I didn't have the same relationship with my father that you had with yours, and I don't have a heartwarming story or fond memories of the man. I knew practically nothing about him at all, and in fact I can only remember meeting him maybe 2 or 3 times in my entire life.

What I do know is that he was a naval warrant officer who served aboard the USS Kittyhawk in Vietnam. My mother tells me he loved the military life far more than he loved his children, and preferred the countless tours on ship over family life. I had no knowledge of what was going on in his life other than a couple failed marriages, but he drank himself to death in 1990.

I would have loved to have had memories such as yours, but life took me down a different path and I have no regrets. In the end I have ended up with a good life, a wife, 3 children and 2 grandchildren.

 

[noshame]

Early Monday morning, July 6th, the man who introduced me to football and to the Dallas Cowboys passed away peacefully in a memory care facility in Fort Worth. He was 91. That man was my father. And he was my hero.

Sixty two years ago this October, my Dad scored two tickets to the Dallas Cowboys vs Cleveland Browns game at the Cotton Bowl. A friend he worked with was an early Cowboys season ticket holder, and he was unable to go to the game that Sunday. So Dad got the tickets and took me - a six year old first grader. And it was a memory I will never forget.

I was so excited that day, holding my Dad’s hand as we walked up the ramp to our seats near the 35 yard line on the west side of the stadium. The grass on the Cotton Bowl floor was the most beautiful green I had ever seen. The silver helmets and pants of the Cowboys’ uniforms were mesmerizing.

We arrived early enough to watch the teams do their pre-game warm-up routines. A ritual I still do to this day when go to any football game. Watching the two teams warm up always gives me a good sense of the teams‘ size, camaraderie and swagger.

I got to see the great HOF RB Jim Brown that day rush for 188 yards in a 20-14 Browns win. Cleveland went on to win the NFL championship that year, the last time they won it all. But I became a lifetime Cowboys fan that day.

In 1967, when I was 9 years old, I had my first serious sports cry when the Cowboys lost their Ice Bowl playoff game in Green Bay. I was so distraught I went outside to cry. My Dad came out to check on me and he patted me on the back gently and helped me understand that sports can mirror life with both joy and heartbreak. Winning is that much sweeter when you’ve experienced the disappointment of loss.

Over the years, my Dad took my younger brother and I to Cowboys games at Texas Stadium too. We saw one of the first games played in Texas Stadium in 1971 when the Cowboys beat the Jets (without Joe Namath) 52-10. My Dad, brother and I watched the Cowboys (on TV) win their first Super Bowl in January, 1972 when we beat the Dolphins 24-3.

I couldn’t count how many Cowboys games I watched with my Dad. We always had fun and somehow I always felt a kinship and love that was a unique bond between a son and a father. It was both safe and enlightening.

My father was a good man. He effortlessly taught his sons that Football was a metaphor of the toughness and challenge that life brings. But when we were together, we also learned that a Fathers love makes life more visible through a clearer lens. He never took sports too seriously. Another lesson he imparted.

The loss of my father is painful, even for an old man like me at 68. But the pain of loss is eased in knowing I had a wonderful father who always took the time to love his family. My love of the Cowboys started back in 1964 in the Cotton Bowl while holding my Dad’s strong hand. As the Cowboys launch another season this fall, I will be thinking of him before each kickoff.

My first sports hero was Bullet Bob Hayes, a great Cowboys player I saw play many times as a kid. His poster adorned my wall. He was certainly my first favorite Cowboys player. But actually as I reflect tonight, my first real and forever hero will always be my Dad.

May he rest in glory. Thanks Dad for everything.
Go Cowboys!

Sounds like a super great guy. May he rest in peace.