Dear Ivan:

Football season just started. 17 weeks of ups, downs, highs, lows.

In the end, it is almost a certainty that our hometown crew, the Giants, will disappoint. I say this because I watched the first game, and their offensive line could not block, which means they couldn’t protect their quarterback, which means they couldn’t get their offense going, which means they couldn’t score points, which means they couldn’t win.

And, they didn’t.  They didn’t win.  They lost.  They lost by a lot.

What does this mean for us? For you?

Well, there is a lesson, and the lesson is this – all of life can be reduced to a football metaphor or metaphors:

First, if you don’t take care of the basics, like blocking, you won’t succeed.  It doesn’t matter if you’re a quarterback with a golden-arm and speed like Mercury (metaphorically speaking).  If you don’t take care of the fundamentals of your craft, you cannot win, unless you get extremely lucky, in which case you should just take the luck, the golden ticket, smile, say thank you and move on.  By the way, this never happens, except in Facebook ads written by social media marketers who try to take your money by saying they made a fortune by buying real estate with no money down.

Second, like football, life is full of great triumphs and ugly, painful losses.  The good news is that in life (unlike in football), a guy who’s 6’5” and weighs 300 pounds probably will not be chasing you.  The bad news is that in life (unlike in football), you don’t get to wear pads to protect against the worst blows life will deliver.

Third, and final, in football as in life, succeeding in New York is just a little bit better, a little sweeter, and it means you can succeed anywhere.  And, that’s not just me saying that.  That’s John Kander, Fred Ebb, and Frank Sinatra.  Of course, the flip side is that failing in New York hurts that much more.  So, it’s the whole double-edged sword thing.  But, not to worry, I’m sure you’ll succeed (especially if you’re chosen career is Playground, TV-Watching, or Punching Daddy In the Throat).

Love always,

Daddy