Watching the NFL wild card game between the Los Angeles Rams and the Carolina Panthers earlier this month, I was reminded of that magical 2015 season where the Cardiac Cats were firing on all cylinders.
Our record was 15-1, with our only loss heading into the playoffs being against the evil Atlanta Falcons in the second-to-last game of the regular season. It was the first time I could recall where Charlotte actually felt like a “football town,” as Panthers bumper stickers, flags, jerseys and all the rest were seen everywhere.
Then-quarterback Cam Newton’s “Dab” taunt had taken America by storm. In our family, where my mom, dad and I would get together nearly every weekend to watch the games together as part of a tradition of our watching NFL games on Sunday with each other, all of us at various points during the games would do our own versions of the Dab.
Any monster move by then-linebacker Luke Kuechly would be met with a “Luuuuke” chant in the living room that was so loud that it probably blended in with the ones being made by the neighbors.
Things didn’t go our way in the Super Bowl, of course, but even more important than the fun memories many of us here have of that season will be the memory of the deepening connection I was making with family and friends on football Sundays as the game victory count grew.
Though sports can be divisive (as both Duke and UNC basketball fans can attest), they also can be uniting, strengthening bonds between family members in ways that last a lifetime.
I’ve been watching sports (college and pro) since I was a kid. My dad got me into the Dallas Cowboys, and then later, I became a San Francisco 49ers fan because the legendary Dwight Clark grew up in Charlotte, graduating from Garinger High School.
At some point, I became a Blue Devils fan, and any game they played in the ACC became a must-watch affair.
We’d watch games for hours. And when I wasn’t at home with the family watching games, I was either hanging out with friends watching the games or enjoying a Sunday afternoon snoozing on the couch as the games played in the background.
The food, fun and conversation were never in short supply, and one of my favorite things to do would be to sit near the person who could call the plays before they happened and who would know what the penalties were before the refs announced them (my dad was particularly good at this).
I don’t watch as many games as I used to, partly because of how much “woke” has permeated sports. The main reason is that it’s just not the same without having my dad around to banter back and forth with about whom he thought was having a bad night or him advising me to watch a replay so I could understand why something was a penalty.
There was also my dad’s methodology of figuring out which team to root for when one of our favorites wasn’t playing. He’d almost always pick the team I didn’t want to win and root for them.
Pretty much anyone you talk to will have similar stories of growing up spending time with their families around the TV set or in the stands watching their teams play live and suffering through the agony of defeat or the thrill of a win.
Even if one doesn’t like sports, Sunday games (or whatever day the big game is on) are a great way to connect or reconnect with family and friends, to get closer. Do it whenever you can because the priceless memories you look back on decades later will bring a smile to your face.
North Carolina native Stacey Matthews has also written under the pseudonym Sister Toldjah and is a media analyst and regular contributor to RedState and Legal Insurrection.
