166 Dad & sports

Dad & Sports

As I watched the Washington Redskins go down to defeat in this week's Monday night football, I found myself occasionally bobbing and weaving in my recliner as I helped Washington runners head down the field. 

The realization of my movements brought a smile to my face and I said, "Hi, Dad."

My father Fred Moore, who died in 2003, was the best bobber and weaver TV viewer I have ever seen. He was skilled in this activity for football and basketball but really excelled as a boxing viewer.

The Saturday Night Fight was a required event in our house in the 50s and 60s. I didn't like watching the fights much but liked keeping my dad company and watching him duck and lurch right and left as the fighters punched. 

Plus the commercials were great:  "Call for Phillip Morris;" "Plop, plop, fizz, fizz--oh, what a relief it is;" and "Brylcreem, a little dab will do you. Use more only if you dare. Brylcreem, the gals will all pursue you. They love to put their fingers in your hair!" Never could understand why you would want to put your fingers in greasy hair!

My dad was 6 foot 2 inches, which served him well in Navy intermural basketball. Since I was the tall child, he had hopes for me as a basketball start. I had small hands and not much interest in playing a sport in which you get sweaty. 



Likewise for baseball where I was very good at hitting a ball or a strike into foul territory. With my fair complexion, I had a tendency to get very red in the face in the summer heat and to sweat even more with baseball than basketball. Adults told me to sit down and cool off because I looked so bad. 

I found a sport that did not cause overheating and could be done in the reclining position--competitive swimming. My father was stationed in Puerto Rico and that also helped.


My folks were so happy to see my sister and me competing in the pool that we were paid when we earned medals and ribbons. $1 for first place, 50 cents for second place, and a quarter for a third-place finish. In the early 1960s, it seemed like a lot of money. 

It is odd to me was that we were not paid for good grades, only for sports achievements. 


My swimming career ended when I went to college. I was not good enough to compete on the collegiate level and was having too much fun doing other things anyway.

My husband Harry and I would frequently meet my dad at college bowl games in the later years of his life. It was dangerous to sit between them at games. If we were all standing for a big play, both men would move downfield at the big pass or run--Squish! 

We would also call each other after an exciting Florida State, Virginia Tech, or Redskins game. Although I never became the athlete he hoped for, we shared a sports bond until the end. I know he is still bobbing and weaving up there!

                                                           Trish