Late morning on February 4, 2005, my cell phone told me that
my son was calling me. For those who
have had the pleasure of having a college-aged son – you may have learned, like
I have, that a college-aged son calling you late morning on a February 4th
is likely to disrupt part or most of your day.
I have three amazing sons – but they text me if they want to communicate
and call me if they have an emergency. Calls
mean trouble that they want you to help solve.
That morning, my college-aged son – Chris Wondolowski – was
calling to tell me that a friend of his just let him know that Chris was
drafted by the San Jose Earthquakes in their Supplemental Draft. So, to be fair, that phone call did disrupt
my day, but not in a bad way.
This past Sunday – 16 years, 8 months, 3 days later – my
(then) college-aged son is a little older and played in his final game for the
San Jose Earthquakes. Through 413 games
171 goals 37 yellow cards (none of them his fault he claims) and 2 red cards
(really unfair decisions he tells me) – I probably sat in the stands for 300+
of those games and watched on television virtually every other one of those
games. “Virtually” because I had a few
weddings to attend when a game was going on and Chris’ brothers would hand me
their phones under the table to watch the games while the wedding festivities
ensued. I am such a bad dancer at
weddings that Mrs. Wondo did not mind me watching the games.
I have had the unbelievable joy of watching dozens of games
with my granddaughters in my lap. This past Sunday, when Chris scored, his
oldest daughter Emersyn (on my lap) asked:
“Grandude are you crying?”. (First
of all Chris decided when his daughters were born that they would call me
Grandude and second of all – yes I was crying).
Full disclosure – my two other sons (Stephen and Matthew)
were convinced that I would be a sobbing blubbering wet mess at Chris’ last
game. I think I did somewhat better than
that prediction.
When I think about Chris’ career my mind tries to wrap
around the fact that 45 percent of his life up until now has been a
professional soccer player.
He was not married when he started. His rookie year at Spartan Stadium we loved
tailgating in the grass parking lot and then going to the games. Then
the Earthquakes were relocated to Houston.
We spent soccer travel weekends going from the Bay Area to Houston – and
Los Angeles – and Denver and Salt Lake City and Columbus and Chicago and New
York and then Seattle – Portland and …
well … everywhere.
Then he came home – my home and his home. And all of a sudden he started putting balls
into the back of the net. His feet, his
head, his shin, his thigh … they all just started going into the back of the
net.
Throughout it all – 16 years, 8 months, 3 days – I cannot
imagine a father who would have had a more enjoyable ride. I am so proud of him (maybe not the 2 red
cards) – but if you have ever seen me at a game I am sure my pride is no
secret. Unabashedly, I love the soccer
player he has been and the man he has become.
And – while in Houston he married the most wonderful wife in
the world (college girlfriend – you knew there was going to be a Chico State
part of this story) who moved back with him to San Jose. For the last several years I have been able
to have my granddaughters on my lap in the front row watching my son and their
daddy. Imagine how wonderful that is! Except when they ask me to take them to the
food trucks during the games.
A regular dad like me does not deserve this 17 year amazing
rocket ride (but I would not give it back for anything). I’ve had too many great moments as a sports
dad to even summarize. My youngest as a
De La Salle football player and then a San Jose State Rugby player – my middle
son as an All American Soccer Player in college and then a couple of years with
the Houston Dynamo --- they are all more than I ever imagined.
Sunday evening at the end of the game – I asked Chris to
exchange jerseys with me and he did. The
jerseys Sunday were made for Sunday’s game with the “Wondo Forever” emblem on
their chest. It was soaking with sweat
(mine was pretty clean that I gave to him) but I loved it as a great end of
this chapter. I told him I would give it
back to him and Lindsey (Mrs. Wondo washed it thank God).
The Earthquake fans – especially those sitting in our
section at the games – and the Ultras and Faultline – and everyone else are
uniquely wonderful. The Earthquakes
management has been great. The staff
that works at the games have been amazing.
I still have my season tickets for next year. I was a San Jose Earthquakes fan long before
Chris became one of their employees and I expect that I will be a San Jose
Earthquakes fan long after.
