If you recall years ago hearing a heroic tale of a wealthy antagonist stealing from the poor throughout his kingdom only to wind up losing in the end, I’m sure you can relive the uplifting spirit you were left with.

In this particular tale, I’m referring to four years ago when a former Columbus Crew SC owner, whose name shall remain out of this post, attempted to steal our hometown soccer club from us. As a result, many, including myself, passionately supported the Save the Crew movement. After a grueling grassroots effort, the fans won and kicked his sorry tail out of here.

In many of my personal and professional circles, I made my feelings known of this man, resulting in me becoming a go to source for updates with those I came into contact. Although, not actively involved like those who led the movement, I did my part in the ways that I could. During one conversation in a professional setting someone asked me, “why are you so invested in saving the team?”

It was an easy answer: "because one day I want to share the experience of going to a match and the joys it’s brought me with a future little Loafer.”

That day that I had dreamt about came on Sunday, July 3 when I got to take my son to his first match. Completely last minute and prompted during a living room soccer match when he said he wanted to “go watch soccer.” I messaged our Crews Crew Facebook chat, confirmed all my friends who are still season ticket holders were going and bought tickets two hours before kick-off.

With a solid three-hour long nap for the little guy and a makeshift diaper bag packed with the bare necessities we set off. Singing the entire ride down to the LDC, we were both amped up. Of course, this didn’t happen smoothly thanks in part to a minor injury in the parking lot. After quickly triaging a skinned knee the two of us met friends for a happy hour beer and soda. With drinks in hand, we met Crew Cat, got scared of Crew Cat, got free ice cream, and greeted everyone with a “go Crew!”

In attempts to not lose his attention, we broke from the group so he could walk around and see the pitch for the first time in person. The moment his little eyes locked in on that thick, bright sea of green accompanied by the magnitude of his first soccer stadium made me realize how massive of a moment this was. All the passionate and sometime colorfully articulated reasons why the Crew should be saved became more than just saving a soccer club - it was for this very moment in time.

Kickoff was at his bedtime, so we didn’t last long. For a kid who has no attention span and doesn’t stay seated long, he slowly chewed his pretzel and took in the first half. Between the occasional “go Crew” and “I want to go down there to play soccer” requests he was locked in. This first match experience was everything I had hoped, as I experienced an immense amount of love for those hours of July 3. It may have been a 0-0 draw, but I went home the winner that evening.

​-Matt Lofy, Regular Contributor

I remember saying when our son was only months old, “I can’t wait until he’s more fun.” Then he started to walk , which quickly escalated into a hurried, unbalanced shuffle.

Not long after, I remember saying, “I can’t wait for him to talk.” He’s two and a half now, and that boy doesn’t stop. There’s no off switch or mute button on the kid. I’d like to think he gets it from his mother, but I’m the one with the podcast!

There’s a couple of memorable phrases he now often says. For instance, if you ask him if he had a good day at daycare, he’ll have a reflective look on his face and reply as if he’s a philosopher “I did…and I didn’t.” It’s also the same answer when we ask him if he gave his cheese stick to the dog.

The one that really hit home recently, is his improper use of “that’s impossible.” It can be one of the most mundane stories from work or when we ask if it was he who tooted. He responds with an exacerbated tone, “what…that’s impossible.” Son, I assure you I sat through that meeting at work, and I also got a fresh whiff of the smell when you ran by me.

For me personally, his “what…that’s impossible,” quite possibly can be the most thought-provoking phrase I’ve heard in recent memory. I’ve found myself reflecting in regard to his progress through the past months. It’s impossible at two and a half, that he’s carrying the garbage bag on trash night showing me how it’s done. While I mow the lawn, he now tells me to straighten my lines. It’s impossible that he is aware enough to notice that.

There is so much joy in hearing that phrase come out of his mouth. Although used improperly, his response is genuine excitement in the things we as adults lack the same sentiment. It has provided a reason to stop and take stock in the possibilities this little chatter box has currently before him and in the months ahead.

It’s a reminder that in the words of Walt Disney, "it's kind of fun to do the impossible.” If the little guy can’t believe it happened, then as his dad I can keep surprising him and finding ways to blow his mind. I have the opportunity as a father to put aside what I believe are simple joys and just cherish the moments that I can provide him the memories of the impossible.

​My question for you Dads who read this is simple, “What are you doing for your little one(s) to make the impossible, possible?”

-Matt Lofy, Regular Contributor

Another Father’s Day is fast approaching. As we prepare to get another pair of funny socks or some sort of weapon needed in our arsenal of weekend warrior tools, let us make this Father’s Day a little different.

As we reflect on being a father, and being a partner, let us take a moment to think about the things we really need more of. Those gifts that will truly make us happier and make a lasting difference in our lives:

Vulnerability
While channeling our inner Brene Brown here, it is true. Vulnerability is the “birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empathy, and creativity.” Imagine the freedom we will truly experience when we let go of anxiety and ask for help. Taking it a step further, the powerful life lesson we pass on to our little ones when they see Dad being vulnerable.

We are currently switching to a big boy bed at home and slowly going into potty training. Vulnerability has never been more evident in our household than now, but it is also a needed companion, as my wife and I navigate these delicate and often messy times.

Community
Like any part of our lives, albeit work, home, extracurricular, etc., we need to find a community of men to share ideas with and to learn from. Maybe your dad still calls the remote “the clicker” and talks about the days of Reagan, but imagine the wealth of knowledge he can pass down on to you as a dad. Think about those friends who had kids before you and the years ahead they are on potty training, travel soccer and college prep. Pick their brains, learn from them.

We began our podcast and partnered with local dad blog CBUS Dads to ensure we were part of a community trying to learn more and be the best versions of themselves. Blindly beginning a podcast, but meeting so many amazing people along the way has been worth the countless hours put into this passion project. It may be challenging at first to find, but is worth its weight in gold, nuggets of information shared among like minded people.

Dadvocacy
We need to stand up and stand out on things that hold us back from truly "dadding." Like more changing tables in men’s rooms and gender-neutral bathrooms at our favorite public places. Teaming up with CBUS Dads, we are currently hosting a Dadvocate for Change campaign advocating for just this. We have talked to businesses, had conversations with elected officials and even partnered with mom-owned Pluie, who has hit the Columbus market with the first of its kind self-sanitizing changing table.

Families come in all different shapes and sizes, meaning there are many more areas of our communities and psyche we need to Dadvocate for. We have had numerous stay-at-home dads on our podcast who shared the unchartered waters of striking up conversations with moms typically at playgrounds, while attempting not to look like they are making a pass at them. Imagine a Dad trying to get his child into a playgroup but is left out because Mom is not a part of it. We all can give the gift of Dadvocating for change!

Sure, another bottle of bourbon from a local distiller is never frowned upon and anything to help up the lawn mowing game is always a strong gift, but let us take a moment this month to look at what gift(s) will truly help us this year.

Stay strong Dadass.

-Matt Lofy, Regular Contributor

Not surprisingly, highlights from most of my trips are the meals. Two dining options I recommend: 

• Be Our Guest Restaurant, which was staged as The Beast’s castle. I don’t know the last time I ate a filet and two French beers for lunch, but I felt the occasion justified it.
• Chef Mickey really spoke to my inner fat kid, as the servers kept bringing platters of family-style dishes spanning various meats, vegetables, potatoes, and deserts to conclude. I've heard the breakfast is even better, which may be the single biggest motivating factor for a return trip.

 
It was important to refuel (i.e., overindulge) given we walked 28 miles in three days spent across Magic Kingdom, Animal Kingdom, Epcot, and Hollywood Studios. Covid protocols across the parks were basically nonexistent, aside from not being able to touch or come into close proximity with the mascots. I found it interesting that the one job in the parks that required a huge mask was not allowed to be near the guests, but someone smarter than me can explain that one. [UPDATE: literally the same day this published, we read in one of our favorite mommy blogs that Mickey will hug again!]

All of the rides were terrific, but not surprisingly, Space Mountain was a family favorite and lived up to the hype. I highly recommend the new Star Wars section for any Star Wars enthusiast. My mind was blown by the Kilimanjaro Safari and the proximity to a variety of animals. A few others were memorable: Mickey’s PhilharMagic, Remy’s Ratatouille Adventure, Slinky Dog Dash, Avatar Flight of Passage, and the Winnie the Pooh ride (but I might be biased, since I’m a Pooh guy).

Part of the carrot for our timing of our trip, was that the high school marching band that my brother-in-law is the director for was marching in the parade. It's always awesome to see his amazing band, but Disney parades are beyond any other I've seen before.

When we’d get back to the resort at night, the kids would ask if we could go swimming. As tired as I was, this trip was once in a lifetime, so I happily obliged. I certainly have no regret ending every long day with a pool session and to hear their laughs a little while longer before passing out.

Disney World is hot, crowded and expensive, but man, you can’t beat the memories created and the wonder in your children’s eyes as they experience this mecca for family entertainment and amusement. We’ve been home a week, and my kids are still asking for and cracking up at my amateur Mickey, Goofy and Donald impressions.

I don’t know if and when a return trip might be, but I’m truly grateful we had this time as a family at the happiest place on Earth.

-Steve Michalovich, contributor, CBUS Dads