Thinking some good thoughts about my Dad

November brings with it my Dad's birthday. Obviously, he's been gone for 3 years now, and I'm trying to work on remembering the good times with him.  Let me tell ya, I should have done the schlepping from Jacksonville, to Melbourne every weekend to make sure  he was ok.

Perhaps it is the fact that I'm actually in a Psychology/Mental Health Counseling Graduate program, or going to therapy... I'm starting to become more grounded when it comes to thinking about growing up as a kid with and living life as an adult as the son of Elliott Sincoff...Not totally there... but I have moments of being there, and loving him 100%.

I know I've shared before, but if someone were to ask what the coolest thing about your Dad was, it had to be how he made me appreciate that boxing (and later, on my own as a result, MMA) is an art form.  If done right, it is like ballet, or poetry.  It can bring a tear to your eye. 

First off, he was the first one to tell me to forget The Heavyweights (too slow), they were bullshit. Every week, we would put on Telemundo, and turn the sound low as we didn't speak Spanish. It was boxing from the Los Angeles Forum. Every Mexican and  Latino fighter that was great, and went on to great things fought on that show.  I dug the Mexican/South American fighting style of trading body shots that the fighters did the "fighting in a phone booth" kind of way.

I can't think of certain fighters (Erik Morales, Marco Antonio Barrera) w/o thinking of him. I dig Marco so much  I almost thought we could have named Tobin "Marco Antonio" :)

When I say that boxing (if done right) is an art form, I truly mean it.  It can be up there w/ any great play, film, concert, etc.  Here, watch a bit Marco Antonio Barrera vs. Kennedy McKinney from 1996.  Tell me you don't see something special. A story w/ a beginning, middle, and end. One that will just blow you away.

Just amazing stuff, right? Just watch a couple rounds...

It took me a long time to feel like I wasn't a little kid around him. I'm still awaiting a time where I can remember the good stuff, the laughs, the love, more than the negative stuff. I'm not there yet, but I'm working on it.

I do know I miss all the late night phone calls where he would scream "where the fuck are you (TV turned up so loud like he was going to chainsaw  a drug dealers arms off), you are missing this motherfuckin' fight!"  

We would argue about my cholesterol, my weight, decisions I made..... The only 2 subjects we agreed on, and could talk about w/o a lecture were boxing and politics.   The fights of late haven't been as dramatic, as passionate, or as amazing of late. Some of it is the lack of great fighters. I'd like to think some of it is my father no longer calling me at 1AM on a Saturday night/Sunday morning to discuss the fight we just watched.