November 12th, 2007
I have a lot of uncles.
My Mom and Dad each had only one sister, but I have a lot of uncles.
I give my parents a hard time; a couple of Aggies couldn’t raise children on their own- they need the entire tribe!
And in our case, it could not have been more true.
Common experiences bring people together, but crucible experiences band men into brothers. I’ve always respected the special bond that only men seem to share. Every guy I’ve ever dated, I’ve always made sure that he kept things (especially me) in perspective; girls like me will come and go, but your buddies are the ones that will marry you and bury you. I think I feel so strongly about this because I have gotten to witness and experience first hand the importance of these relationships.
Now, the men you are about to meet are just a few of my father’s teammates, but they have all played (and continue to play) a significant role in my life.
Often times when I refer to Uncle Bucky, people often think I’m talking about Bucky Richardson.
Ha, my dad is way older than that…
…and Bucky’s even older!
However, this Bucky was a haus in his own right. (I actually had no idea, until recently I ran across his name on aggieathletics.com, with two records on the list for All-Time 100-Yard Rushing Games.)
Bucky was a senior when my dad was a freshman, but they played the same position, so they got to know each other very well. He moved back to College Station recently, and we’d often run into each other at the Chicken or Ozonas. Aside from his very literal, sarcastic sense of humor, he has a huge heart and often bestows his fatherly advice upon me… often with a grain of salt (and lime!)
Apparently, one of the coach’s could never remember that Cody’s name was “Cody”; instead, he referred to him as “Tobey”. But, in order to say “Tobey” correctly, you need to draw it out, and say it in a deep, gutteral tone. Cody actually has three daughters, Jenlizbeth, Cassidy and Jessica. Jenlizbeth is one year older than Cassidy, Cassidy is one year older than me, and I’m one year older than Jessica- so it’s like I fit right in there. Cody used to be very involved in the Fellowship of Christian Athletes, and he was kind enough to come down to Houston from Austin to speak at my high school FCA’s lock in. Coach Comeaux, our FCA advisor, had grown up in Ohio and was ecstatic when she realized he was coming to speak (Cody played with the Cleveland Browns back in the eighties). Leave it to the Aggie family…
I often identify with “Weird Ed”; his nickname came about very naturally. Not only was he a Jock, he also had a Harley Davidson, and graduated from Texas A&M Veterinary School.
Just imagine, if you will, one of Eddie’s college parties:
-Thick neck, thick skulled football playing Neanderthals in one corner
-Black leather-clad, dew-rag wearing Hell’s Angels in another
-Philosophical, studious white lab coats mixed somewhere in between
He can best be described as an absent minded professor; incredibly intelligent, but could never seem to keep track of his car keys, right shoe or sunglasses. It was only appropriate that at our annual Aggie Football Family reunion River Trip in New Braunfels, Texas this past summer that he spent the better half of Sunday outside searching for the keys to his rental car.
Old habits die hard.
Stacy is by far the biggest softie of the bunch. He cherishes each of the relationships that we share and is often sentimental. He’s the residential photographer and does an excellent of capturing the moment. He and his wife, Michelle, live in San Marcos, and with them we started the yearly tradition of Aggie Football Family reunion river float trip, that has only grown in size each year. On one of the first trips, he and his son Taylor (who actually ended up being one of my Fish Camp Counselors… imagine getting to Fish Camp and realizing that your cousin is one of your mentors!) were play fighting in his truck and accidentally knocked out one of Taylor’s loose teeth! We stopped to hopelessly attempt finding it on the side of a pebble covered road, and sure enough we did! (It was the only white pebble with blood on the edge of it!) Knowing that I can always count on my Uncle Stacy for anything, there have been many times that I have called him with an hour’s notice that I will be in San Marcos and might need a place to crash/do laundry/be fed a home cooked meal. They have always accepted me with open, loving arms and treated me like I was their own daughter. You can’t beat having family like that.
Last but not least, Uncle Baber. Or “Dad” as I have been instructed to call him.
The day I was born (and I’m the oldest of two children) my Dad calls Baber to tell him, and the first thing he says, “She looks like me, doesn’t she?”
And the scary thing is, I do. And my brother acts like him.
One of my favorite Baber stories happened when I was sixteen years old. I had just gotten my drivers license and we were all in College Station for the Letterman’s Reunion/Maroon and White Game. It had been a long day, so I went to the business center in the hotel to play on the computer, when my Mom came down with my brother and told us that Baber needed us outside. Next thing I know, I’m driving his huge diesel Ford F-250 to Northgate. We gave my little brother, Klent, $10 in quarters and left him at the pinball machine in Duddley’s while Baber and I went to all the Bars on Northgate- even the ones that are strictly 21 & up. (He kept telling all the doormen I was his daughter. I most definitely had braces, and they were letting me in to these bars.) Mom called at about 1:30 am as I was driving home; it was excellent practice for many future nights of being the DD on Northgate.
In addition to having a good time, “Dad Two” does a great job of checking up on me; our weekly phone calls all start the same way- “Britt One to Babe One, Britt One to Babe One, Babe One, do you copy?” He always calls to congratulate me on a job well done on a test, or whenever I get sick from overworking myself, he encourages me to spend more time at the Chicken.
“That’s what me and your real dad did, and we never got sick!”
No wonder I turned out the way I did…