Translate

June 14, 2010

Football, Fussball, Soccer

No soccer in my house.
I don't even look to see who wins what.
I was never a soccer fan, and just peripherally am aware of the World Soccer cup winners.  Yes, I know it's happening.  Yes, I know it's in South Africa.  And yes, I know there is a very annoying instrument associated with it.  I do get that much.  We even get to see live soccer games on TV, I came across that channel the other day.
But I don't care.
Not even a little bit.
My father was a big soccer fan.

With all his problems he cared very much.  When I was 18 years old, my father had to be admitted to the hospital because he collapsed on a Saturday while working with a bleeding ulcer in his stomach.  The bleeding ulcer was sitting on an artery, which meant, that the blood transfusions he got went into his body and were lost immediately via the bleeding ulcer (vomiting), or the other way.  He faded in and out of consciousness  all day Saturday and Sunday, but when he did come to, he wanted the soccer game on.  I think, on the radio.  Far as I remember there were no TV's in the patients rooms back then.
Well Monday came, and the surgeon in that hospital suggested going in as the only option left.  They had hoped the bleeding would stop on it's own.  So my father was operated on, 3/4 of his stomach taken out, and he made it.  I remember the first week switching with my mom, she'd go in during the night, I was there during the day.  He did make it.

This was at a time when you could still buy beer/bring beer to the hospital.  My father was advised to drink beer, for the nutrients (German purity in brewing law) in the beer, and it would be better absorbed by the body.  Worked out fine for him.  He had a bottle or two of beer in the evening, enjoyed it, and that was that.
When he came home, he did end up with jaundice from the blood transfusions, the house had to be fumigated, but he also recovered from that, and went on to have two more serious car accidents, in which his foot got crushed in the first one, and his knee in the second one.
He always managed to recover without complaints, stayed cheerful, never forgot to laugh, always went back to work (don't forget he was an amputee from WWII, and could have gone 'invalid' any time).
Oh, and he somehow was tickled that he outlived that surgeon by years. 
Yeah, I know. 
German sense of humor.

How did I end up writing about my dad?  Oh, yes, soccer - football - Fussball.
He would have been glued to the TV, watching it all and he would have been thrilled the Germans won over Australia.  (okay, I know that much).

And none of us kids inherited a shred of interest for organized sports.

2 comments:

  1. WOW, what an awesome man your father was Ruth!
    Can't even imagine... Kinda funny about the Beer...good for him.

    I don't like it either. More fun to go to yard sales or shopping :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. ruthi, i don´t like soccer too but holgi LOVES it! that means for me, 4 weeks of soccer! even i don´t like soccer, i hope we are going to win the wordcup ;-) soccer is huge in germany and whole germany is schwarz-rot-gold now and the whole nation is hoping that the worldcup is coming home ;-)

    ReplyDelete