Sports
Open Court: Fathers and sons
By Nick Prevenas
“Watch this. You’re going to see this guy do something nobody else can do.”
It was a sweltering August afternoon in Greeley, Colo., home of the Denver Broncos’ summer training camp.
My dad had leaned over and uttered that quote just as John Elway drilled an unsuspecting rookie wide receiver on a 15-yard crossing route.
Even though we were at least 40 yards away from the action, we could hear the ball hiss through the air. The young wideout trapped the ball against his chest and coughed as he took his place in line.
“That’s called the Elway cross,” my dad said.
Legend had it Elway threw the ball so hard that the stitches from the football would leave an unmistakable imprint on a wide receiver’s chest.
I loved that moment. Sports has served as the backbone for so many memories between my father and me, as it has for countless people just like us.
My mind always wanders to that moment during times like these.
Before Davidson’s star shooting guard took center stage on Friday afternoon, he was shooting jump shots in his driveway while his father lit it up in the NBA.
Del Curry was a 15-year NBA veteran who did most of his damage from beyond the 3-point line for some successful Charlotte Hornets teams in the early 1990s.
His son, Stephen, emerged from under his shadow to land a scholarship at a fledgling Southern Conference school.
Few people can appreciate how difficult it is to achieve genuine success in a field where one’s father reached the highest level.
On Friday afternoon, Stephen Curry’s 40-point effort against Gonzaga established him as a star in his own right. Broadcasters used to refer to him as Del Curry’s son.
However, Friday’s scoring barrage was no fluke. Stephen is a star in his own right.
As Stephen effortlessly drained 3-pointer after 3-pointer, I imagined his father grinning from ear to ear.
Of course, the father/son dynamic also holds strong in times of adversity.
On Friday night, highly touted middleweight prospect Andy Lee made his national-television debut on ESPN2, hoping to make quick work of Brian Vera and catapult himself into the division’s title picture.
Lee’s trainer and de facto father figure Emanuel Steward is on record saying Lee will quickly establish himself among the sport’s elite. Steward not only offers Lee boxing tips, he provides the Irish pugilist with a roof over his head.
But Vera took a page from the Tampa Four (Siena, Villanova, San Diego, Western Kentucky) and stunned Lee with a seventh-round TKO.
The enduring image wasn’t Vera’s spirited celebration or Lee’s battered face. It was Steward, one of the sport’s great trainers, putting his arm around Lee and offering words of encouragement during what was certainly one of the lowest moments of Lee’s professional life.
We often look to sports — March Madness, in particular — to deliver temporary moments of exhilaration.
But beneath the surface, these seemingly inconsequential games can bring people closer together, often without them even realizing it.
nprevenas@gvnews.com | 547-9747
It was a sweltering August afternoon in Greeley, Colo., home of the Denver Broncos’ summer training camp.
My dad had leaned over and uttered that quote just as John Elway drilled an unsuspecting rookie wide receiver on a 15-yard crossing route.
Even though we were at least 40 yards away from the action, we could hear the ball hiss through the air. The young wideout trapped the ball against his chest and coughed as he took his place in line.
“That’s called the Elway cross,” my dad said.
Legend had it Elway threw the ball so hard that the stitches from the football would leave an unmistakable imprint on a wide receiver’s chest.
I loved that moment. Sports has served as the backbone for so many memories between my father and me, as it has for countless people just like us.
My mind always wanders to that moment during times like these.
Before Davidson’s star shooting guard took center stage on Friday afternoon, he was shooting jump shots in his driveway while his father lit it up in the NBA.
Del Curry was a 15-year NBA veteran who did most of his damage from beyond the 3-point line for some successful Charlotte Hornets teams in the early 1990s.
His son, Stephen, emerged from under his shadow to land a scholarship at a fledgling Southern Conference school.
Few people can appreciate how difficult it is to achieve genuine success in a field where one’s father reached the highest level.
On Friday afternoon, Stephen Curry’s 40-point effort against Gonzaga established him as a star in his own right. Broadcasters used to refer to him as Del Curry’s son.
However, Friday’s scoring barrage was no fluke. Stephen is a star in his own right.
As Stephen effortlessly drained 3-pointer after 3-pointer, I imagined his father grinning from ear to ear.
Of course, the father/son dynamic also holds strong in times of adversity.
On Friday night, highly touted middleweight prospect Andy Lee made his national-television debut on ESPN2, hoping to make quick work of Brian Vera and catapult himself into the division’s title picture.
Lee’s trainer and de facto father figure Emanuel Steward is on record saying Lee will quickly establish himself among the sport’s elite. Steward not only offers Lee boxing tips, he provides the Irish pugilist with a roof over his head.
But Vera took a page from the Tampa Four (Siena, Villanova, San Diego, Western Kentucky) and stunned Lee with a seventh-round TKO.
The enduring image wasn’t Vera’s spirited celebration or Lee’s battered face. It was Steward, one of the sport’s great trainers, putting his arm around Lee and offering words of encouragement during what was certainly one of the lowest moments of Lee’s professional life.
We often look to sports — March Madness, in particular — to deliver temporary moments of exhilaration.
But beneath the surface, these seemingly inconsequential games can bring people closer together, often without them even realizing it.
nprevenas@gvnews.com | 547-9747
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