GaryMrMets
01-03-2006, 02:24 PM
http://www.nydailynews.com/sports/story/379666p-322391c.html
New Year kicks off with
old memories of great men
http://www.nydailynews.com/images/columnists/lupica_m.jpg
John Mara says that when he really thinks about it, the time he misses his father the most is when the game is over, and it is time to take the walk he always took with Wellington Mara down to the Giants' locker room. It hit John Mara again the other night, right between the eyes, when the Giants had beaten the Raiders and won the NFC East, and he was on his way downstairs in what is now called McAfee Coliseum in Oakland. His father lived for nights like this. They were the payoff for all the times, over all the year, when things didn't go his way.
"The walk we'd take after we'd win a game was always the best time," John Mara said yesterday. "It was just that quiet few minutes between the end of the game and the locker room, making our way from the booth to the elevator, seeing that smile on his face. If you want to know when I feel his presence the most, that's when. I can still feel him right there next to me."
John Mara says he still feels the presence of the old man everywhere at Giants Stadium, in his own office, in Tom Coughlin's, in Ernie Accorsi's, on the practice field and inside the stadium. Wellington Mara, until he got too sick this past year, always seemed to be everywhere around the Giants.
"He was always coming down the hall," the son said yesterday, "or around the corner."
Mostly, though, the son misses the father on Sunday. Or on all these Saturdays the Giants have had lately, as they were closing out the field in the NFC East and setting up this playoff game on Sunday against an old Giant assistant named John Fox and the Carolina Panthers.
Wellington Mara has been dead two months now. Bob Tisch died three weeks after that. There has never been a period quite like this for any sports team, certainly not one around here. The memory of the two men is evoked constantly, mostly because they would have loved this Giants team and the run it's made to next Sunday, would have loved the way Tiki has played and Osi and Eli (who says there's no "I" in team?), Burress and Shockey and Strahan. This has been one of the most entertaining and enjoyable Giant seasons in a long time, coming after 4-12 and 6-10. But then Well Mara in particular always believed next season would be better.
Now he is gone. John Mara has taken his place. This all goes as deep now with him as it did with the father. He runs the Giants now. He is in charge of the football side of the family business. He is the heir to Sundays like this Sunday.
"I went to visit him in the hospital after we lost the San Diego game," John Mara said. "He knew that game was going to be tough for Eli because we all did. But then I think he opened everybody's eyes with the way he took us down the field, the way he hung in there all night. And that day in the hospital, Dad smiled and said, 'Hey, we might have something here.' And I realized he was talking about this year."
If the Giants win, they keep going, to either Seattle or Chicago. They do not go out there to win one for Well Mara or Bob Tisch. This coach and these players know how wide open the field is in the NFC, as good as Seattle's record is. They know what kind of shot they have here. They do not do this for their late owners, they do this for themselves. You can't say it enough: In any sport, you never know when a shot like this will come around again.
Mr. Mara still would have loved it all. He signed off on the deal for the kid at quarterback, and he always wanted this coach. "(Coughlin) is everything Dad wanted as our coach," John Mara said, "everything he thought the coach of the Giants should be."
In all the important ways, this is still Wellington Mara's team, his last.
"I go down on the field for practice maybe once a week," John Mara said. "And that's another place where I look over to the corner, the place where he liked to watch from, and expect to see him."
The first big playoff game Well Mara saw, not officially designated a championship game that year, just the one that clinched the title for the Giants, was against Red Grange at the Polo Grounds in 1927, Giants 13, Bears 7. The first one John Mara remembers seeing in person was the championship game of 1962, Packers over the Giants at Yankee Stadium, 16-7.
"I sat with my mother in the auxiliary press box in the end zone," Mara said. "A few rows ahead of us was Elston Howard, which was a huge deal to me because I was such a big Yankees fan. When we lost the game, I remember my mother crying. Not my dad. I knew he was hurting. This was that stretch when we lost five championship games in a row. But as much as he hurt that day, he didn't show you. He always knew how you were supposed to act, win or lose."
Well Mara once called Giants games "family gatherings." There will be another one on Sunday, the kind of day he knew all about, all the way back to Red Grange and the Polo Grounds, the kind of day he carried around mostly in his heart. Try telling John Mara the old man won't be there Sunday. When the son walks in the door, the father will be everywhere.
Originally published on January 3, 2006
New Year kicks off with
old memories of great men
http://www.nydailynews.com/images/columnists/lupica_m.jpg
John Mara says that when he really thinks about it, the time he misses his father the most is when the game is over, and it is time to take the walk he always took with Wellington Mara down to the Giants' locker room. It hit John Mara again the other night, right between the eyes, when the Giants had beaten the Raiders and won the NFC East, and he was on his way downstairs in what is now called McAfee Coliseum in Oakland. His father lived for nights like this. They were the payoff for all the times, over all the year, when things didn't go his way.
"The walk we'd take after we'd win a game was always the best time," John Mara said yesterday. "It was just that quiet few minutes between the end of the game and the locker room, making our way from the booth to the elevator, seeing that smile on his face. If you want to know when I feel his presence the most, that's when. I can still feel him right there next to me."
John Mara says he still feels the presence of the old man everywhere at Giants Stadium, in his own office, in Tom Coughlin's, in Ernie Accorsi's, on the practice field and inside the stadium. Wellington Mara, until he got too sick this past year, always seemed to be everywhere around the Giants.
"He was always coming down the hall," the son said yesterday, "or around the corner."
Mostly, though, the son misses the father on Sunday. Or on all these Saturdays the Giants have had lately, as they were closing out the field in the NFC East and setting up this playoff game on Sunday against an old Giant assistant named John Fox and the Carolina Panthers.
Wellington Mara has been dead two months now. Bob Tisch died three weeks after that. There has never been a period quite like this for any sports team, certainly not one around here. The memory of the two men is evoked constantly, mostly because they would have loved this Giants team and the run it's made to next Sunday, would have loved the way Tiki has played and Osi and Eli (who says there's no "I" in team?), Burress and Shockey and Strahan. This has been one of the most entertaining and enjoyable Giant seasons in a long time, coming after 4-12 and 6-10. But then Well Mara in particular always believed next season would be better.
Now he is gone. John Mara has taken his place. This all goes as deep now with him as it did with the father. He runs the Giants now. He is in charge of the football side of the family business. He is the heir to Sundays like this Sunday.
"I went to visit him in the hospital after we lost the San Diego game," John Mara said. "He knew that game was going to be tough for Eli because we all did. But then I think he opened everybody's eyes with the way he took us down the field, the way he hung in there all night. And that day in the hospital, Dad smiled and said, 'Hey, we might have something here.' And I realized he was talking about this year."
If the Giants win, they keep going, to either Seattle or Chicago. They do not go out there to win one for Well Mara or Bob Tisch. This coach and these players know how wide open the field is in the NFC, as good as Seattle's record is. They know what kind of shot they have here. They do not do this for their late owners, they do this for themselves. You can't say it enough: In any sport, you never know when a shot like this will come around again.
Mr. Mara still would have loved it all. He signed off on the deal for the kid at quarterback, and he always wanted this coach. "(Coughlin) is everything Dad wanted as our coach," John Mara said, "everything he thought the coach of the Giants should be."
In all the important ways, this is still Wellington Mara's team, his last.
"I go down on the field for practice maybe once a week," John Mara said. "And that's another place where I look over to the corner, the place where he liked to watch from, and expect to see him."
The first big playoff game Well Mara saw, not officially designated a championship game that year, just the one that clinched the title for the Giants, was against Red Grange at the Polo Grounds in 1927, Giants 13, Bears 7. The first one John Mara remembers seeing in person was the championship game of 1962, Packers over the Giants at Yankee Stadium, 16-7.
"I sat with my mother in the auxiliary press box in the end zone," Mara said. "A few rows ahead of us was Elston Howard, which was a huge deal to me because I was such a big Yankees fan. When we lost the game, I remember my mother crying. Not my dad. I knew he was hurting. This was that stretch when we lost five championship games in a row. But as much as he hurt that day, he didn't show you. He always knew how you were supposed to act, win or lose."
Well Mara once called Giants games "family gatherings." There will be another one on Sunday, the kind of day he knew all about, all the way back to Red Grange and the Polo Grounds, the kind of day he carried around mostly in his heart. Try telling John Mara the old man won't be there Sunday. When the son walks in the door, the father will be everywhere.
Originally published on January 3, 2006