Harshi Pannala Q1 Blog #3 - Touchdown!
Kickoff.
My dad stepped off the plane with a backpack and duffel bag, hopeful and excited. He was only 21 but fulfilling his childhood dream of studying in the United States. While he opened his arms wide, the world (more like the residents of Chicago) didn’t always welcome him. Hate traveled faster than friendship. Loneliness weighed more than his overpacked luggage.
Football was what saved him. At first, it was just background noise — students on campus shouted names he didn’t recognize. When he discovered Tom Brady, #12 and the quarterback for the New England Patriots, it became more than the touchdowns and Super Bowl wins. It was about belonging. For the first time, he could talk about something without being seen as an immigrant before anything else.
First quarter.
With each raise at work, he bought Patriots merchandise — first a hat, then a jersey, and eventually a license plate for the car. Despite living in Fremont, a diverse city where cultures mix, divisions lingered. Stereotypes floated around the classrooms early on, but football cut through it all. When I wore my Patriots gear, no one cared that I’m a girl or that I have brown skin. When I recounted plays, no one measured our cultural differences. The game was a neutral ground, a place where I could plant my own identity and still feel, fully, American.
Halftime.
By then I understood that this sport harbored connection. A father bridging the ocean of immigration and his daughter learning that belonging can be found without erasing her differences.
Third quarter.
Friendships were built on Monday morning debates about Sunday game highlights. Laughter filled the rooms as everyone fought to defend their favorite players — a fight that never lasted long, because Brady always won in the end.
Fourth Quarter.
Every holiday season, our home glows not just with lights on the tree but with the steady hum of a game in the background. The sound of commentators mixes with the smell of food, and in this magical combination I see beauty in what my dad gave me.
The final whistle blows.
For my dad, football was a lifeline. For me, it’s a celebration that adds joy to every holiday, gathering, or weekday evening. The thrilling sport offered both of us a sense of belonging.
The scary looking one is my sister.
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ReplyDeleteHi Harshi, I found your blog incredibly relatable, yet new at the same time. I actually know nothing about football (I was twelve when I found out what a touchdown was) and I've never been able to sit through a game or follow anything about the sport in general. I probably know two football players off the top of my head. However, my lack of knowledge about football aside, you explained it in a way I could relate to. With identity and belonging. Everyone wants to feel like they belong, and immigrants above all, have to chase this feeling. You explained football through community and connections and a father obsessed with sports. All of which I can relate to on some level. I see football in a new light because of you, which I thank you for as believe it or not I hated the sport before I read your blog. Thanks for sharing!
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