Sean at 17

Oct 2004

They looked at the screen.

"You're having a boy," they said.

Wow. A son. The whole "keep the family name alive" thing.

He needed a name. "Sam" sounded good, save for one problem.

Sam. Adams.

Nope.

I couldn't do it.

Then "Sean" came into my brain. No bad connotations there. I had friends in Sean Kilkelly and Sean Ford, among others. There was already a Sean Adams on WCBS Radio.

Yes. "Sean." That would do quite nicely.

"Robert" was going to be the middle name all along, as I wanted to honor my dad.

So Sean Robert it was, and he came into the world early on a Saturday morning.

In fact, I had a rare night off from broadcasting games and had just gone to bed when I was told to get up. He joined us a little after 7:00 a.m.

I beamed with pride walking with him through the hospital. It was no secret we were going to be quite the duo.

May 2009

My work schedule at that time allowed me to stay home with him, so we had our routine of breakfast while I worked on radio stuff from home. Then I'd take him to his grandmother and get going with another round of games.

Our bond grew, as expected.

As a boy, he was a ham, with a wonderful smile and an easy laugh. There were behavioral hiccups, but I've seen worse. He's human.

Is he going to Harvard? No -- it wouldn't be his thing anyway.

Is he going into sports? Good god, no. I'd be shocked. Sports is definitely not his thing, and as I've said many times, I'm OK with that.

Sean figures things out on his time, in his way.

He's quite the man. Very grounded, still funny, loves puns, still laughs and smiles, but there's a world-weariness now that I worry has come from life experiences. That's, of course, something that I'll feel responsible for, though I've shielded him from a lot, and let him see reality when needed.

He has my tendency to be snarky and sarcastic. Quick-witted for sure. There's no doubt about that. But he's still a largely optimistic guy.

Most agree that he's a younger version of me, for what that's worth.

He might not open up and talk to everyone, but we still have that relationship where everything is on the table.

We look out for each other, and regardless of who you are, you're best to not mess with us.

He's developing political thoughts and a fine moral compass.

He told me last night he has no interest in tattoos or piercings of any kind. Feels he could regret them one day. Smoking? Drugs? Drinking?

No. No. No. So he says, and I believe him.

The truth is, sometimes I want to see him "live" a little more, just to get out. But he's happy with who he is and what he is. He's happy with his circle of friends, most notably Chris (whom I've never met and is just a voice on the phone) and Will ("the Thrill"). It's hard to complain about that.

If you've followed this blog or any of my social media, you know what a huge role he has played in my life. I can think of very few others whom I talk about nearly as much (I sometimes feel guilty for that, but when I love someone, I blab about them).

So you probably know a ton about him. My listeners know a lot about him also, and he used to be a presence at a lot of those games that I called.

He's taller than I am now (he loves that). He makes me proud every day.

We're as close as ever, and he doesn't seem to want to push "his old man" away. There's a natural space between us, and that's good. Yet when I asked about going away this summer, he quickly said, "Heck yeah I'm going!"

Of course, I'll always lament that lost time of the past 10 years when he moved to a different school district. However, it didn't hurt our relationship or even really change it. I think we would have always been like this.

I have to go broadcast two hockey games today. Greenwich and New Canaan girls play at 4:00 for the FCIAC Championship, and the Cardinals and Rams boys teams meet at 7:30 in an FCIAC quarterfinal game.

When I asked him if he was OK with that, he shrugged and said, "Sure." No hesitation.

He'll stay home and do his computer thing, and appear when he needs food or to pet Chico (the very large cat).

Happy birthday, Sean. Through countless hugs, tickles, laughs, tears, "I love yous," and miles, you've been everything I could want from a child.

A son.

And at this point, a man.