Nonfiction: The Superbowl of Me

Avatar Author: BA Boucher My ficly "Into the Arms of Digital Angels" ( was expanded into a short story which got published! Check it out here: T... Read Bio

It still burns when I go to sleep. There’s a jagged shard of glass in my brain, right around the memories of laying down only to be awaken by my excited dad because the Packers were doing something awesome.

Like kicking a field goal.

My father commited suicide September 8, 2010, the night before opening weekend of the 2010 NFL season. He was always a dissentor, born with a brother in the hot sun of Garden Grove, California, my father gave his allegiance to the Green Bay Packers.

He was a buddahist who adored brutes like Curly Lambau and Reggie White.

And now he is dead.

I live in Pittsburgh, and because of my father, worship these gods of the gridiron. Through his eyes the distance between us was never more than 100 yards.

Tomorrow is the Super Bowl, Packers versus the Steelers. The team of my heart versus the team of my soul.

I miss my dad.

View this story's details


Oh no! This story doesn't have a prequel. Want to fill in the blanks and write one?


Oh no! This story doesn't have a sequel. Want to fill in the blanks and write one?

Comments (3 so far!)

Average Reader Rating

  1. Avatar BA Boucher

    I know this reads more like a blogpost but for some reason I couldn’t help putting it here.


  2. Avatar southsideof10

    No apologies needed. There is definitely a story here and it’s a read worth reading. I enjoyed (right word?) this greatly and if not for the title/tag/comment I would have taken this for a topical story. Enjoy the game and save a spot on the couch for your pops!

  3. Ahfl_icon THX 0477

    Ouch. No need to apologize. Writing wise there are a few missteps, like the sentence about him being born with a brother that reads awkwardly. Still, the pain and swirl of emotions comes through nicely.