Cities Built On Sand
Smile
The day had finally come, Patrick was graduating from high school and beginning a new chapter in his life. He would soon be suiting up with the University of North Dakota's Fighting Sioux as one of their newest additions to the team. Sidney couldn't be an more proud of his son for choosing to attend at least two years of college before joining the Philadelphia Flyers as their number one draft pick.
Although Sidney wished for his boy to be playing for the Penguins he was still thrilled, his son, Patrick Crosby, was the number one draft pick. There were magazines, radio stations, and television shows all bombarding the Crosby's in the hopes of a father-son interview. On the car ride to Sports Illustrated Pennsylvania offices, Sidney couldn't help but notice how nervous his son seemed.
“You alright, bud?” He asked patting his son on the leg.
Patrick nodded slowly, “Just nerves I guess.. didnt' think me being number one would catch this much attention.
Number eighty-seven laughed and shook his head, “Being drafted number one is always a big deal, but I guess this is just even more since you're my kid.”
“What kind of questions do you think they'll ask?” Patrick asked bouncing his leg slightly.
Sidney shrugged, “I don't know.. probably ask about you when you were younger, what it was like watching me skate growing up, why you chose to go to University instead of starting in the NHL right away like I did; stuff of those sorts.”
“Oh..”
Patrick leaned forward and turned up the radio allowing the music to fill his mind. He began thinking of some answers to questions that his father was rattling off. How his dad managed to keep his cool in interviews and appearances for so long, Patrick would never know. How do you even prepare yourself for something like that, microphones and cameras in your face.
Without even realizing it, the car stopped in a parking garage. “Ready?” Sidney asked looking at his mini-me.
Patrick shook his head, “Uh.. I guess I don't really have much of a choice do I?”
Sidney let out a low chuckle, “Not really.. but you know what by the end of the day, You'll be a pro at these things and it won't even phase you.”
“Right.. but how I not make a fool of myself right now? That's what I'm more concerned about.” Patrick asked, his palms sweaty and his voice cracking.
“Grandpa Troy had the same exact conversation we're having right now with me when I was about nine or so and you know what he told me?”
Patrick raised his eyebrow, “What's that?”
“Smile and no one cares what you say. Just a simple smile and nod is more than enough in some situations. You don't always have to give the press long elaborate answers for things. I mean, take Geno for example. He went through all this stuff like you are now and he didn't even know how to speak out language.”
Patrick took a deep breath, “Alright.. thanks Dad. I'm ready.”
Although Sidney wished for his boy to be playing for the Penguins he was still thrilled, his son, Patrick Crosby, was the number one draft pick. There were magazines, radio stations, and television shows all bombarding the Crosby's in the hopes of a father-son interview. On the car ride to Sports Illustrated Pennsylvania offices, Sidney couldn't help but notice how nervous his son seemed.
“You alright, bud?” He asked patting his son on the leg.
Patrick nodded slowly, “Just nerves I guess.. didnt' think me being number one would catch this much attention.
Number eighty-seven laughed and shook his head, “Being drafted number one is always a big deal, but I guess this is just even more since you're my kid.”
“What kind of questions do you think they'll ask?” Patrick asked bouncing his leg slightly.
Sidney shrugged, “I don't know.. probably ask about you when you were younger, what it was like watching me skate growing up, why you chose to go to University instead of starting in the NHL right away like I did; stuff of those sorts.”
“Oh..”
Patrick leaned forward and turned up the radio allowing the music to fill his mind. He began thinking of some answers to questions that his father was rattling off. How his dad managed to keep his cool in interviews and appearances for so long, Patrick would never know. How do you even prepare yourself for something like that, microphones and cameras in your face.
Without even realizing it, the car stopped in a parking garage. “Ready?” Sidney asked looking at his mini-me.
Patrick shook his head, “Uh.. I guess I don't really have much of a choice do I?”
Sidney let out a low chuckle, “Not really.. but you know what by the end of the day, You'll be a pro at these things and it won't even phase you.”
“Right.. but how I not make a fool of myself right now? That's what I'm more concerned about.” Patrick asked, his palms sweaty and his voice cracking.
“Grandpa Troy had the same exact conversation we're having right now with me when I was about nine or so and you know what he told me?”
Patrick raised his eyebrow, “What's that?”
“Smile and no one cares what you say. Just a simple smile and nod is more than enough in some situations. You don't always have to give the press long elaborate answers for things. I mean, take Geno for example. He went through all this stuff like you are now and he didn't even know how to speak out language.”
Patrick took a deep breath, “Alright.. thanks Dad. I'm ready.”