It's More Than Just a Game

The program stands upright, encased in plastic, holding a prominent place on a bookshelf in my office. “Kansas City Chiefs vs. Boston Patriots, Municipal Stadium, November 20, 1966, 50 cents (including tax),” is written in bold letters, displayed on the front of the program. Beneath that announcement, a black and white picture shows Chiefs’ quarterback Len Dawson rolling out, behind the block of fullback Curtis McClinton.

It’s the program for a game I never got to attend.

My Uncle Don, Don Krouse, lived next door to Jack Steadman at the time. I was eleven years old. Jack Steadman was for four decades chairman, president, and general manager of the Chiefs football organization. Knowing how I, as a young boy, practically idolized college and pro football players, Don, with the help of Stedman, made some things happen for me. For beginners, Don took me to watch the Chiefs practice. Then, I was allowed into the Chiefs locker room where Head Coach Hank Stram smiled at me, shook my hand, told me to grow a little, and come play for the Chiefs. And, to this day I have a football signed by members of the Chiefs team that played the Green Bay Packers in Super Bowl I. I cried when the Pack beat the Chiefs.

But I didn’t give up on the Chiefs; I stayed with the sport because of something I learned from Uncle Don. It was a small thing, and he probably forgot about it, but I never did. It happened on one of our visits to Kansas City. Don had done it again; this time we were to sit with Lamar Hunt in the owner’s suite. And after the game, Don told me, I might actually have the opportunity to meet some of the players.

Unfortunately for me, as soon as we arrived I got sick and missed the game.

But the lesson was learned after that game I didn’t see. Uncle Don tapped on the door of my sick room. “How ya doin’ kid?” he inquired in his raspy smoker’s voice, now even more hoarse from yelling at the game. “Thought you might like this.” It was a program from the game, with autographs of Len Dawson, Jerry Mays, Bobby Bell, Chris Buford, and Jim Tyrer. Forgotten now to most sports fans, they were my heroes then. And along with that autographed program, Don handed me a play by play synopsis of the game. I watched the replay of the game the next day and had fun “predicting” what would happen with each play. Uncle Don had helped a disappointed youngster feel better, and more significantly, in the process he taught me a valuable lesson.

Football is football most of the time. But on occasion it becomes something more than just a game. Whether or not you know what a first down is, you can understand human compassion, expressed most often in small ways, in little actions, like giving a dejected kid an autographed program, a play by play summary, and a tender smile. As important as it is to make every effort to win, the relationships formed as one person cares genuinely for another trump the won-loss record.

I thought about that just the other day as I hung up the phone, having received the news of my Uncle Don’s death. Staring at that program in my office, I recalled that moment with him when I missed the game but learned a lesson. And for the life of me, I couldn’t remember who won the game.