Losing Weight
You never know what's holding you back
What’s So Funny is a whenever I have time newsletter. Please feel free to share parts of this letter that connect with you, or send to someone you love. Thank you for reading, sharing, commenting, subscribing, for joining me. It means a lot.
I’ve been ruminating on how influential the band Slint is to most of my favorite groups and re-listening to their 1991 album Spiderland over and over. Taking my time with the pacing and the deliberate nature of every cord. I believe listening to it while reading it would add to the experience. Enjoy.
It’s honestly funny how when I started this substack I thought I’d be writing in it weekly. Way back in April of 2024 before we found out my lovely wife was expecting, before she brought our wonderful son into the world, when I had seemingly endless free time. Ha it’s funny to look back now—even me a lifelong writer, a former journalist, poet and editor can abandon writing when time becomes sparse. As I look back at my last post, it’s been 226 days since I wrote to you so hello, I hope you’ve been well amid the newest slip further towards fascist rule in these United States of America. Remember: no one is coming to save us. we are all we have. look out for your community. Those aren’t really platitudes for me—community is at the center of my life here in Detroit and I see beauty on a day to day basis when I take a second and watch small acts of kindness, mercy and love from my corner of the Eastside. Rather than focusing on the horrors and negatives of life in America today I am blown away at the number of people who until very recently didn’t care about politics but are now active in their community working to protect their immigrant neighbors. Small acts of bravery, of selflessness are reminders that the people, the populace are the ones in control. This was just a housekeeping preamble I’m not here to write about politics, community or antifascism.
I got the urge to write again a few different times in the past seven months, but on Christmas Eve I made up my mind, I was sure of it. It was warm, and with my infant son at my feet slowly tearing into his very first Christmas presents my in-laws had handed me a card. When I opened the card a wave of energy pass through me down from beneath my eyes down to my fingertips. It was an email printed out, and folded up to fit into the card, full color print, DETROIT RED WINGS VS. COLORADO AVALANCHE SAT JAN 31st 2025. I’ve written about my love for the Colorado Avalanche and my Denver teams in the past, but something that I’d never told anymore before this moment is I’d never seen the Avalanche play live. Since moving to Detroit after college I’ve attended every game the Denver Broncos have played against the Detroit Lions at Ford Field and nearly every game the Denver Nuggets have played against the Detroit Pistons at Little Caesars Arena, but with the Avalanche I just refused to even consider it. In fact I don’t wear Avs merch for the same reasons—I never wanted to get in a fist fight over my team. If that feels overblown I’m telling you it was not cool growing up here in Michigan as an Avs fan. That rivalry between the Avs and the Red Wings. It's just that— the past, but for some reason, I cannot mention my beloved Avs to most Detroit sports fan without the Red Wings and the fights taking center stage in the conversation. They can't help themselves! It's like a tic. They need to insert their glory years into the conversation because the last time they won the Stanley Cup, George W. Bush was president.
I was anxious the day before the game unsure if I’ll get heckled, if anyone will try and goad me into some kind of fight or whatever just on edge. I hadn’t had any Avs shirts or jerseys since I was a kid, so in the month leading up to the game I went onto eBay and found a vintage Avs jersey I could wear to the game. When it came in it fit like a glove and I was absolutely chuffed—felt like a kid on Christmas morning looking at myself in it in the mirror. It was honestly disorienting. I hadn’t seen myself wear this logo in 25 years maybe, in a way to blend in I rarely told people I liked hockey—but I love hockey and have done so for all of these years doing my best to steer conversations away from the Avs if possible. When gameday gets here we decide to take a lyft—and the second we get out of the car my wife Casey goes “look! more Avs fans!” knowing I’m anxious and unsure of all of this. We take a few steps towards the entrance of LCA and catch up to this group of four Avs fans and one of them says “there will be probably 8,000 Avs fans in there today!” easing my nerves immediately as we file into to the sea of red and blue. With each Avs fan we pass and each Red Wings fan who doesn’t even notice I exist the more and more tension rises from my neck evaporating into the cold January air
The game was a blast—the Avs scored, and scored often, dominating every phase of the game winning five to nothing. I barely left my seat, I tried to soak in every single moment appreciative that I will never have a first Avs game again. Maybe it’s fatherhood, or maybe it’s the Denver sports aspect of it all that keeps me focused and glued to the game like I’ll miss something. It happens every time I’m at Denver sporting event, I linger on moments, I focus on little details and idiosyncrasies of the game possibly hoping to hear from my late brother. Watching the Broncos send a Tightend in motion at Ford Field maybe Nick’s laugh will break my concentration out of the back right corner of my ear. Or the echo of his sarcastic sense of humor guffawing in the aftermath of an Avalanche goal hoping to piss off a Red Wings fan in earshot. I know even though I never clocked it this is true. I realized when Casey went to the go get some Tim Horton’s during the game after the first intermission I stayed seated, our row emptied out and I was laser focused scanning the crowding looking at each person in Avalanche merch thinking about how much I wish I could take in a game with Nick one day. Talk shit about Patrick Mahomes with him, god he would have hated him I mean, hated him. Anything like that. We didn’t get to go sporting events as kids really. I don’t think Nick and I ever went to one together. We sure as hell went to a lot of NASCAR tracks though. I do remember went to a Lions game at the Pontiac Silverdome with my Boy Scout Troop and my mom as a kid. I remember it like it was yesterday: it felt like we were in a big hazy balloon laid on its side. Cigarette smoke hung in the air, and between plays you would see groups of people stand up and stare at a commotion in a near section of the stadium only to see it was two grown men drunkenly fist fighting while the Lions failed to hold their attention.
I can’t imagine what Nick would have said to me if I told him I finally went to an Avs game and we won 5-0. I can’t imagine what Nick would think of my life now, and what he’d say about me being father. I can say with confidence that you should go to that game, you should make that memory with a loved one and you should take pictures with them to cherish. I have been meaning to write this for a week or so, but as fate would have it, today is Nick’s birthday, he would have 43 years old today. I would give anything to have him in my life, in my family’s life, I would give anything to go to one [1] game with him. I am unsure if I believe in an afterlife, but if one exists I hope to god Nick gets to go to games there, good seats too.
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by Sean Kelly
A newsletter that explores the humor in the dark moments life provides us through true stories, anecdotes, and everything in between.
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