I was getting my things together to go downtown, when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and opened a text message from my son, Nolan, which read: #BURRITOWATCH2014?
I smiled, and replied that I had an appointment downtown, but would be up for #burritowatch2014 as soon as I was finished, if he didn’t mind waiting for me. He said that was fine, and a few hours later we were waiting at one of my favorite places for our food.
While we waited, we took a stupid selfie for Twitter
And then our food arrived. I had an Al Pastor with no rice, extra-spicy, and he had a pollo asada, no rice, with mild salsa.
We ate our delicious burritos, and then I took him home. When I dropped him off, I said, “Hey, your mom is going to have dinner with Stephanie tonight, and I’ll be home doing nothing. So if you wanted to come over and watch a movie or something, you’re invited.”
“I may be hanging out with some friends, but if I’m not, that sounds great,” he said.
“Awesome,” I said. “I love you.”
“Love you too.”
He walked up to his apartment and I watched him. I know it’s silly, but whenever one of my kids walks away from me, whether we’re saying goodbye in an airport or train station, or even if they’re just walking to their cars from my house, I see them though this strange paternal vision that makes them look like 6 year-olds, going to their first day of school. They’re 24 and 22, now, and I don’t think that’s ever going to change for me.
I drove back to my house, running a few errands on the way, and when I got home, Nolan called me. “Hey, I’m going to see my friends, but not until later. I don’t have time to watch a movie, but do you want to play a game?”
“Yes, I would love that,” I said. “I have some really fun two player games here. Come over whenever you want.”
“Okay, I’ll be there soon.”
I hung up the phone, and thought, “Holy. Shit.”
For years, I have struggled to close the gap between us that opened up when Nolan was a teenager and he pulled away from me. We had been so incredibly close when he was little, it hurt me a lot that he was so withdrawn from me, but I didn’t want to force a relationship on him that he didn’t want. Through it all, I continued to love him unconditionally, and I always hoped that one day he would come back to me. I always invited him to our house when we did things, and he usually declined. I’d ask him to hang out, or go for a bike ride, or play frisbee, and he wasn’t really interested. But, recently, something changed. He’s been coming over to see me more frequently, sitting with me in my house and talking with me about his life and the choices he’s making right now, asking for my advice, and closing that gap. It’s wonderful.
One thing I never thought would happen though? Gaming together. We played lots of games when he was a kid, but part of his character build during the teenager level was rejecting everything that was important to me, especially gaming.
So when he called me — didn’t text me, but called me — to ask if I wanted to play games, I was as happy as I was caught completely off-guard.
Much sooner than I expected, Nolan came walking into the house. Our dogs adore him, so Marlowe immediately ran laps, while Riley did her happy “rooooooooooOOoOOOOOOooooOOO” noise. Seamus just leaned into him and demanded scritches behind his ears.
Once the dogs had expressed their love for him, Nolan and I went to my nearly-completed gameroom, where all of my games are on a series of bookshelves that takes up almost one entire wall.
“So I have Hive, which is really fun and kind of like chess, All Creatures Big and Small which is like Agricola but for 2 people, Battlelore, which is a minis game with really cool movement rules, OGRE, which is the first wargame I ever played, Carcassonne, which I can teach you in about 5 minutes …”
“You also have all these decks of Magic cards,” he said, showing me a box that does, in fact, have several hundred Magic cards in it, collected from the first edition I ever owned, to the most recent release.
“Dude, let’s play Magic!” I said. We used to play Magic a lot when he was younger, and it was one of those things that, while it didn’t close the gap, certainly bridged it from time to time. In fact, during that time, I gave him unfettered access to my Magic cards, which he used to duel kids in his school. On day, he came home and was really upset that kids were printing cards from the Internet, and using them in sleeves, which he (correctly) interpreted as cheating. “I’ll never use sleeves,” he declared, “because I want everyone I duel to know that I’m not cheating.”
“This is an excellent idea,” I told him, both because it was, and because I really hate playing any game that has cards in sleeves. I mean, that’s like putting plastic on your couch, for fuck’s sake. Andrew.
Nolan took some of my cards with him to Game Empire to play in an open dueling thing, and an ur-gamer of my generation refused to play with him, because, in the ur-gamer’s words, the cards Nolan was using — my cards — were “far too valuable” to be used unless they were in sleeves. He gave Nolan sleeves for those cards, which Nolan used, but then returned when the duel was over, if I recall correctly.
Back in the present, he said, “Let’s play two-out-of-three with random decks.”
We grabbed a couple decks, including some Mirrodin Besieged decks, the Knights and Dragons duel decks, and two Planeswalker decks that I got at GenCon or PAX or some con a couple years ago.
Now, I am not the greatest Magic player in the world, and I don’t spend nearly as much time playing it now as I did when I was much younger and had more time (and money) to invest in keeping up with the latest rules and releases, but I still have a good time whenever I play. I also believe that, generally, fast decks that kill with one thousand cuts are usually more successful than slow decks that count on defending yourself a lot while you wait for a big bad to show up and smack the other guy into dust with two or three big hits. I could be wrong, but that’s my general experience.
I mention this because we randomly pulled decks, and Nolan got a fast deck each time, while I got a slow deck. They weren’t especially balanced, and he immediately took the first two games from me, basically by stabbing me a bunch of times with goblin spears, using the Dragons half of the Knights and Dragons duel decks.
We switched to the Planeswalker decks for the second match. I got Garruk (green), and he got Chandra (red). These little decks are really fun. They’re 30 cards each, a very simple build, and lend themselves to really quick duels … which is pretty terrible if you’re the guy with the green deck who needs to get 7 freaking mana out to play his Wurms, while the other guy’s red deck slowly murders you with goblins. Again.
I did win a single game, because Nolan should have taken a Mulligan on his draw, and after five games, it was Nolan 4, Wil 1.
“I just realized that your decks have both been fast decks, while mine were built around withstanding a lot of small hits until I can smack you a couple times for lots of life,” I said.
“I prefer fast decks,” he said.
“So do I,” I said.
He cocked his head to one side, which he’s done since he was little whenever he’s about to get serious, and said, “do you mind that I’m killing you? Like, is it still fun for you?”
When Ryan and Nolan were little, they played Little League. They were coached by their hypercompetitive dad, whose winning-is-the-only-thing attitude ruined the experience for both of them. At one point during one of their seasons, I had to stop going to games because I couldn’t stomach watching their biodad yell at them, oblivious (or uncaring) to how much it was upsetting them. And, Jesus Fuck Shit, Little League Parents: get some fucking perspective, will you? They are 8 year-olds, playing a game, on a weekend. If those little kids winning those games is the most important thing in your life, you fail at parenting, and life in general.
Sorry. I still get angry about how much those games upset my kids, and how I couldn’t do anything to protect them from it at the time. The point is, during that time, I tried my best to support them and provide a counter weight to their biodad’s crap. I told them, “It’s fun to win, sure, but if you only have fun when you win, you completely lose the joy of just playing a game, and being part of a team that works together. You’re not going to win every game you play, so if winning is the only way you have fun, you’re going to have a bad time pretty often.”
I think they intuitively understood that, and I think their understanding of that, coupled with a desire to meet their biological father’s demands, made the entire Little League experience very difficult for them. I know that they internalized my lessons, though, because they’ve both told me as much at one time or another in recent years.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m having a really great time playing with you. Winning just doesn’t matter to me.”
I paused. Then: “Are you ready for the greatest comeback in the history of life?” I asked him, “because it’s about to happen.”
He looked silently back at me, and raised his eyebrows.
“Shut up! It can totally happen.”
More of the look, and we both laughed.
“Okay, which of these decks do you want?” I asked him. One was called Into The Breach, which had a pretty cool-looking, H.R. Geigeresque insectoid creature on the cover. The other was called Infect & Defile, which had a dimilar, H.R. Geigeresque creature on its cover, but more bird-like.
“I’ll take, uh …” he looked at them both, and reached for Into The Breach. “I’ll take this one.”
I took the other, and he said, “No! Wait! This is green, and that is black and blue. I want the black and blue deck.”
“Normally, I’d say it’s not a big deal and you can have it, but you’re destroying me so much I’m going to keep it and consider it a minor victory.”
“Dude. That’s harsh.”
“I know. I’m terrible.”
We opened the boxes, and pulled out the decks inside. They are Event Decks, which I’d never played with before. It’s a pretty cool idea: you get a deck that’s constructed from a bunch of different sets, built around a particular theme, that’s theoretically tough enough to withstand tournament play.
“Hey, this is really cool,” I said, “and there’s even a little insert that tells you how to play the deck.”
I took my insert out and opened it up.
“Are you fucking serious?” I said.
He looked up at me, and I read the first sentence to him: “To win with the ‘Infect & Defile’ deck, you’ll need to be patient.” I skipped a bit and continued: “…given enough time, you’ll draw more cards…”
“Oh man, that’s hilarious.”
“Well, I’ve certainly been training up for this deck,” I said. “Let’s do this!”
We started our duel, and Nolan just ruined me, quickly, in back-to-back games. In the second game, he used a devastating series of instants to cut me down to four life, then a sorcery to finish me off, all on the fourth or fifth round. “I’m not even angry, ” I said, “that was amazing.”
“You are the undisputed master of Magic,” I said. “You may do The March, if you wish.”
The March is this silly victory thing we’ve been doing in our family since we first played one of the DVD versions of Trivial Pursuit in the early 2000s. Anne loves to do it, and I’ll admit that it feels pretty good to do when you’ve earned it, especially if you’re extremely obnoxious in the marching and saluting.
“No, I’m good,” he smiled. “I think these decks weren’t very balanced.”
I shrugged. “I don’t play enough to know, and if we were really super serious I guess we could switch decks and play again, but I know you’ve got to get to your friend’s house, and I don’t want to monopolize your Friday night.”
We cleaned up the game, and he said, “I had a really good time playing with you, and I’m not just saying that because I won.”
“I know,” I said, “I had a great time playing with you, too. I’m really glad you came over.”
He bent down and hugged me (he’s almost 6’2″, now, and has giant arms, so he pretty much engulfs my tiny 5’11” person when he hugs me). There was a sincerity and warmth to his hug that I didn’t realize had been missing for a very long time. I hugged him back.
“I love you, Nolan,” I said.
“I love you, too, Wil,” he said.
I pulled away and patted his chest with my palm. “Have fun with your friends, and be good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Let’s do this again.”
“I’d like that a lot,” I said.
He went out the front door, and I closed it behind him. Through the glass, I watched my little boy walk down the driveway, towards his first day of school.
Mine are 27 and 25 (1 of each). They are 3000 miles from me (30ish) from you and they are still those little ones I need to protect.
This made me cry. Thank you. I mean it. Thank you.
PS. I have 70 linear feet of games, down from double that when we moved smaller.
Will you’re the best
I have tears in my eyes right now. Darn you. And thank you for sharing such a sweet and real time with your son. 🙂
Wil, you are an amazing dad. I’m 26 with a husband and a life of my own, and I still love to go over to my parent’s house and have game night with them. I doubt that will ever change.
Dang, dude – those burritos must have a lot of onions on them…they’re making my eyes leak from 1800 miles away!
Wow. I’m not a dad (I’m 47 and still single due to a somewhat peripatetic lifestyle), and I don’t have the desire to be a dad, but if I did, I would totally want to be the kind of dad you describe here. Nicely down, Mr. W.
This was so sweet, and I hope I can teach my daughters (5 and 1.5) to love games as much as my husband and I do. So far we seem to be on the right track, but you never know . . .
Jeez, Wil. Actual tears on that last line.
Had that feeling today when my son went back home after the holiday break….He even had a backpack.
My parents have both told my brother and me that they perpetually see us as kids when they look at us (I’m 30, my brother is 27). I laugh, but I kind of get what they mean. I mostly see my parents as they were when I was little (my parents were teenagers when they had me, so we were young all at the same time) when I look at them, and I’m always surprised anew when I am reminded that they’re turning 50 this year. It’s weird how age is in the eye of the beholder sometimes.
And that’s why I’ve been coming back to your blog since 2004! Such a great story. I don’t play Magic, so the game play descriptions were over my head, but the family dynamics: eternal and wonderful.
Yep. As my tough little sis would say, “my eyes are sweating.”
I sincerely hope in 10 years when my daughter is 21 she has the same love and affection for me as your kids do for you. Well “played” sir.
Today I watched my nephew (biologically nephew/heart and mind son) get on the bus to go to boot camp (army) he was dressed in camo but all I saw was the ninja turtle t-shirt he wore in elementary school.
That is just such a good Friday right there. I hope my kids will love to play with me when they grow up:)
I COMPLETELY understand that gap when he was a teen. My son is 21, still in college and I am JUST starting to see a shift back toward me.
God bless you and your family!!!!
First, you don’t look old enough to have a 20-something.
Second, I got nothing. I know nothing about Magic to comment.
This was lovely. It hit me right in my (step)parent feelings. Thank you for sharing.
Wil, Wow! I’m Going through that with my fourteen year old now. Hell, Yes! Little League parents need ta get a life! It’s even worse for girls, by the way. I’ve co-coached my daughter’s summer softball league teams and there’s been many a time that I’ve had a parent ejected from the game. Usually followed by a sincere , “Thank You!” from their daughter and spouse. The fourteen year old and I have a signal she gives me if she feels I’m getting to involved in the game. The universal hand throat slicing thing. She’s only had to use twice in five years. Both times I’ve shut the heck up. And that’s what has helped re-mend the gap between us. Me shutting the heck up and letting her play HER game. And the fact she chose to be a catcher (which I was in H. S.) was her own decision, surprised the heck out of me. She makes me proud. she breaks my heart. She makes me laugh until I can’t breath. Ah, kids. Life is so much fuller with them in it.
Beautifully written, Wil. alt.ensign etc notwithstanding, *this* is why you have fans…because you can see and express things like that that most of us just have to feel through because we can’t find words.
Thanks.
It was good to “meet” Nolan thru Tabletop the other week, too.
Thad for two boys here (6 and 8yrs). We are just starting to tabletop game and this.. this hit me in the feels.
Wil, you’re a great dad and a sweet guy. I wouldn’t allow my kids to get into Little League because of the parents. I had already seen the amount of sheer abuse. It was generous of you to share your magical time with your son (pun not really intended), and it touched a sweet spot in my heart. All the best to you and yours for the new year.
Like many of the other comments here, my eyes are leaking as well. Not only are you a great dad, but just a wonderful human being. (That goes for Anne AND your boys too)
I’m so glad you and Anne found each other, and those boys got a dad who cared (and still does) about the REALLY important stuff.
…and I’d love to see a demonstration of The March. 🙂
Such a beautifully told story. Thank you for sharing such a personal tale. Having many difficult extended family situations, it eases my stress to read about you, Anne, and the boys. You have good kids.
I offer a collective “D’awwwww” for fine, happy parenting moment…..and the feelz. The feelz are awsum. 🙂
This may well be the most beautiful thing ever written.
Such a great story, I hope that I can be as good a father in the future. I have to admit I squealed a little when you listed Ogre. It’s not really appropriate for Tabletop but it’d be great if you could do something with it. The asymmetrical warfare is quite unique in the wargame market.
Dang Bro… I had to wipe my eye. Thank you for sharing this!
I have two daughters (18 & 25) as opposed to two sons, but my experience with my younger daughter (just turned 18) has very much mirrored yours with Nolan throughout her teenage years – we were so close when she was young, but she pulled away during those teenage years. Things are still somewhat stilted, but I always try to be there when she needs me and we have occasional moments which I hope will become more frequent.
And I totally get the seeing them as young kids again, I still do with my girls even though my eldest is mother to my two grandchildren.
Your story really resonated with me and made me misty-eyed
I really enjoyed reading your story about re-connecting and still seeing your young man as a little boy, even years later. It’s great that you two were able to reconnect and have some fun times together. May you have many more in the future!
The worst part of my only sleeved game (Dominion) is that I haven’t had time to play it in months, so it’s just sitting there, taunting me with its pristine edges and unworn art.
I also sleeve playtest decks, but those don’t count — we have to or the new cards don’t shuffle right with the old one. Old cards, I mean, not Cthulhu..
You made me cry. I want my big boy to walk in the door & beat me at Magic (how weird is that?!?!). California is way too far away. Also, sigh, I guess I will be plunking down the big bucks for Ogre now.
Seems like most of the commenters identify with the parent part of this story…I’m the kid who put up walls between her parents when I was a teenager and never really found my way back. My mom and me are okay, but me and my dad…I think I was just never the daughter he wanted, and that hurt so much that now that I’m older I don’t know how to call him and just ask if he wants to play games. If Nolan ever wants to do a guest post about how to do that, that would be good.
Wil, I’m just curious; when you write about your sons, and it’s something pretty personal (like the way Nolan feels about something, or your relationship when he was younger), do you run it past them after your finished and see if they approve before you post it? Are they ever bothered that you write about your personal experiences with them? I absolutely can only speak for myself, but I think I would feel uncomfortable as a young man if people I had never met were granted access to personal details about my relationship with my family. There’s no criticism intended here, and you obviously have a wonderful relationship; I was just curious how that worked for your writing.
Thank you for giving me hope. The 19 year old boy is just starting the journey back to us after a really hard teenage time. You give me hope he may actually make it back to us. Thank you.
Hey Wil. Long time listener first time caller.
I’ve read your blog lots, and realize that you didn’t agree with the ‘complete and polar opposite to yours’ values that their bio dad tried to instill in them.
Just some food think. Perhaps without that influence they would not appreciate as much the great things that you brought to the table. Sounds like they genuinely want to spend time with you and that’s a real gift.
Wow, Wil. I’ve just realized how long I’ve been following your blog in its various incarnations. Your boys were just entering the teenage years, and my son was toddling around my house when I first ran across a post you wrote. I remember you writing about the changes in your relationship with Nolan, how he was pulling away, and how that hurt, but you accepted it as part of his becoming his own person. Now, my own son is entering the teenage years, and I see that same scenario start to play out for us.
Thank you so much for sharing this small, yet important, moment in your life. It is reassuring to read of the reconnection as my own son starts to pull away. I’m really happy for you too, because I can see how much your kids mean to you from how you write about them.
And yes, when he walks away from me to go anywhere, I inevitably see my little boy walking into pre-school (even though he is twelve and already over 5’4″). Well said.
OMG – I’m not a parent, nor ever likely to be one, but these dad posts are always my favorites…they get me right here! *sniffle*
Thanks for this story Wil. I became a dad two weeks ago and found this really moving, after reading it I arranged to spend some time with my dad next weekend too.
It’s funny but since I started my journey into fatherhood I’ve been thinking a lot about my parents and how much hard work they put in to raising my brother and I but I never really thank them directly. That will have to change!
Hit me right in the feels. Even through my boys terrible teens we were able to connect with our love of gaming. Starting with D&D, pokemon, magic, warcraft, diablo etc. Your voice (written) is so wonderful, feeling and moving. I am inspired by your posts in so many ways. Thank you for this. I am printing it out to send to my husband. He will get the feels too….blessings
The feels! 🙂
You get a pass for playtest decks. Everything else, though … ಠ_ಠ
Thanks for a wonderful sharing Will.
Thanks Wil. I coach youth sports. Basketball, soccer, t-ball, whatever my girls are playing I volunteer to coach or help out. Currently it’s basketball. My girls are wonderful but have points wise lost very game. Emotionally we have won though. I stress fun and learning to love a game over winning. My coaches were ruthless win freaks when I was a kid to the point where I loved to play but hated plying games. How you said it was perfect. I will be repeating it to them when practices start up again.
Thank You!
Great article. I’ve always played games with my kids, video games and table games. A Christmas tradition for many years was Mario Kart all day on Christmas day, but we stopped a couple of years ago. My daughter, in her first year of college this year, was home for three weeks for Christmas (went back today). We spent many hours of that three-week break playing Mario Kart, just like we used to do.
beautifully written.. 🙂
What a great story – I don’t know anything about the games you were playing by you perfectly captured what every parent feels – thanks, even though I am a crying mess
Incredible Wil. I love that you are such an advocate for the power of gaming not only as a pastime but as a necessary social, emotional, and physical convention in our society. Thank you.
My not-quite-two-year-old son woke me up at 7am this morning by bringing me an Xbox controller and insisting that I play Lego Marvel Superheroes with him (while he pretends to play with a broken controller).