The Things We've Handed Down

My first jersey was a Colorado State Rams tank top, a lookalike with the name “Kerr” on the back. I was only one year old, so I am still unsure if it was Lloyd or Floyd Kerr who I was emulating, but they were both huge contributors to a Rams team that came eight points from taking the Rammies to the Final Four. My grandpa and grandma both worked for the university, so I came by CSU gear pretty naturally, as they were proud fans. Once other relatives saw that my future affinities were being skewed, the logos started pouring in. I was quickly inundated with Broncos, Bears (Denver, not Chicago), and Cubs (Chicago, not Denver) gear before I was actually old enough to say any of those words. I’d love to say none of those family predilections influenced my long-term behaviors, but I still have a fond place in my heart for all of the above, even though I’m a Colorado homer through and through.

So when Gene Danger Eades-Olson decided to make his arrival a few weeks ago and a few weeks early, my first online stop was trip-planning to see my daughter, her beau, and their new boy. My second online stop was to my favorite sportswear site to see what was possible in onesies. Gene’s daddy is a huge sports fan who had already wheeled out his sweet infant Air Jordans collection to pass down to his son. He’s already filling drawers and closets with Gators and Jags gear, and I have some serious Broncos/Nuggets/Rockies/Avs/Rams shopping to do.

My Rams jersey made it with me until I was three and way too big to wear it, only to be replaced by several versions over the years as it eventually became my alma mater. The Broncos jersey was nearly worn out by the time I finally got to see my first game in person. I didn’t have a Nuggets jersey until my teens, and my first Rockies jersey was actually a hockey sweater.

Each of them came from someone near and dear to me, who wanted me to know just a little bit more about who they followed, what they loved, and to give us something in common to bond over, talk about, and love together. Even the Chicago Cubs gear my distant family kept sending had me tuning in to WGN on the regular to hear Harry Carey say things like, “Grace spelled backwards is E-carg.” Classic.

Over the years, as many of those family members eventually passed along, I found even greater solace and memory in following those teams as a way of both honoring and celebrating the folks who helped build me, brick by brick. Sitting down with my dad and a beer over a Broncos game is one of my greatest joys, as he reminds me how much I love our time, and how much more he’ll always know about football, and life. I’d give just about anything to sit down with a scorecard and score one more Rockies game with my grandpa. Or to take my grandma to a Rams basketball game. They handed me those loves, and now keeping track of the teams is a way to remember how much I loved them as well.

So there may be a few packages showing up on Gene’s doorstep over the next several weeks, months, and years. He already came by a pretty sweet pair of orange-and-blue pants to go with his new Broncos jersey, and a Jokic jersey that makes him look a little terrifyingly like a mini-me version of Nikola himself. I think a Chuck Nasty jersey and a Landy sweater ought to round out the beginning of the collection soon enough. His CSU mini-helmet won’t fit just yet, and I have to get that “Kerr” jersey specially made. But one of the surest ways for a meathead like his grandpa to say, “I love you” will probably arrive at his doorstep in a few too many balls, bats, sticks, and goals. One of the surest ways to pass ourselves along is to make sure the ones we love see the joys that made us who we are. I need to get in on this early, as Gene already looks a little… Dangerous.

Whose gear and memories would you hand down, DNVR Nation? Who built your loves for your teams, and which ones would be the most important for you to pass along?