My Dad was a massive Alabama football fan.
It still feels weird saying was.
My Dad passed away unexpectedly on Saturday morning. There was no prolonged illness. He wasn't sick. In fact, he was in pretty good shape for a 77-year-old man.
And now he's gone. Just like that. No warning. No chance to say goodbye.
Football season is over before it could ever begin.
Because how do I possibly care about Alabama football again without him? Outside of blood, it was the closest bond we always shared. Every Sunday, win or lose, I would talk to my Dad on the phone, or in later years in person, after every single game. Celebrating what went right and opining what went wrong.
We had a group chat: my Dad, my brothers, my Uncle, and me, where we would exchange texts throughout every game. It won't feel right to start another one without him.
Tommy Mitchell of Anniston, AL, was an Alabama fan. He was also so much more.
He was a father, grandpa, son, brother, cousin, and everybody who ever met him would call him a friend.
Saturdays are for Alabama football in the fall. This Saturday in the spring, we'll lay him to rest.
My love of Alabama came from my Dad. That's true of most people who were raised here. It was also true for my Dad, though he ramped it up a notch from his father.
My Dad was born in Anniston, Alabama in December of 1948. He was nearly 10 years old before "Mama called" and Coach Bryant came home, resurrecting the Crimson Tide and turning them into a college football powerhouse during the 1960s and 1970s.
My Dad grew up, got married, and had his first son just a couple of months before Coach Bryant retired and passed away a few weeks later. The birth of my oldest brother coincided with Alabama beating Penn State, and my Mom could never tell for certain which he was more excited about.
I was born a decade later, two months after Gene Stallings captured Alabama's first post-Bryant national championship. Being a fan of the Crimson Tide wasn't a choice; it was a birthright.
My Dad showed me my first game on TV. He took me to my first game at Legion Field. One of my first football memories was the 1999 Iron Bowl and the excitement around Alabama's first "Victory on the Plains." When I clear out my Dad's house in the coming weeks, I'm sure I'll stumble across his commemorative VHS copy of that game.
Alabama football was always the constant; the tie that bonded us together. No matter our differences, we could always agree on that. It was the common ground we could talk about when we had nothing else to say to one another.
I'm ashamed to admit that for many years I didn't appreciate my father. Chalk it up to being a dumb kid if you want, but it's a thought that has haunted me in the ensuing days since he passed. I spent too many years regretting what he wasn't and not enough appreciating what he was.
And what he was extended far beyond Alabama football: he was the most selfless man I'll ever know. He worked, and he provided, and he gave every part of himself away in the process so that his kids might have a better life.
My Dad "semi-retired" two years ago, a year after my Mom passed away. It was a long time coming, but he kept working long past the time he should have stopped so they could afford my mother's medical bills. His insurance through work was the only way they could afford the medicine that was keeping her alive. Some country, eh?
He spent his last few years trying to make up for lost time. And I spent the last few years finally appreciating him for all he'd done.
He was a good Dad. Even if I didn't see it when I was younger. But he was an even better Grandpa. He loved and was so proud of all of his grandkids. Seeing him interact with my two-year-old will be one of the fondest memories of my life. She could never do wrong in the eyes of her "Bampa" and I'm so angry at God that she won't get to have him as she grows up. I'm still working through quite a bit.
I feel cheated. For myself and for my daughter. And for the rest of his grandkids, my brothers, his sisters, his nieces and nephews, and everyone who knew him. Because my Dad had so much life left in him. The man above said it was his time to go, and I'll forever disagree.
I'll still watch Alabama play football this fall. It was made too much a part of me to stop now.
But now that he's gone, it sure feels like football season is over, and it ain't ever coming back.