I Jumped to my Feet

Although he likes to tell people otherwise, my brother is 11 years older than me.  While he was lifetimes ahead of me, I loved trying to keep up with him and all that he had going on.  I remember asking my parents if I could do my homework while watching tv, if I could have a Walk-man, and if I could wear my tennis shoes untied.  All, of course, were no.  The best option I had was to follow him when ever he would allow it.  When I was in third grade, my brother left for college and I couldn't really follow him there.  

Off he went to the University of Pittsburgh, where he would learn to be a metallurgist, a leader, an individual, where he would play soccer for the blue and gold, where he would live far away and I would be sad without him.  I was so proud of him.  I didn't really know what college meant, but I knew that it was a big deal.  And, so that first fall, we made several trips to Pittsburgh to visit my brother.   I recall the trips going something like this:  Being picked up early from school, my mom having packed my Cabbage Patch Kids lunch box with lots of snacks, the family wearing Polo shirts, sweats, and sweaters all in blue and gold.   We would get to the game early, finding a seat was easy in the huge stadium, as soccer didn't get much support.  I would spend the next few hours doing cartwheels and running around the arena, being sure to make friends with everyone.  Afterwards, we would follow my brother up to the field house so that he could change before going out to dinner.  

This tradition went on for the next four years.  My brother earned honors both on and off the soccer field.  Years later, ten years to be exact, I found myself at that same arena.  My brother was on the field playing with another alumni and the current Panther team.  I watched as he took the ball down the field and scored an awesome goal.  And, just like all of those times before, I jumped to my feet and yelled, "That's my brother!"  I guess it was sort of loud as the players on the field all looked up to see who this sister must be.  

While I don't get to watch him play soccer much anymore, the cheers haven't stopped.  I watch him with greater pride now.  As a dad, as a husband, as a son, as a friend - I still get the urge to jump and yell.  He's my brother, and I am really proud of that.