10/11/24 - Friday Forget-Me-Nots by Jim Silcott

Photo Caption: Rosary with Bishop Fernandes

Dear Our Lady of Peace Family,

I was working the final home Crew 2 game at the old stadium, officially named “Historic Crew Stadium,” last Sunday. It was raining steadily. I was manning a back entrance where friends and family of the players entered. Because of the weather, I had only four customers for the entire match. 

My job was to scan the tickets and put a wristband on those who use that entrance. The wristband signifies that they can sit on the west side of the bowl. Regular customers must sit on the east side. 

A security guard is also stationed there to watch people go through the metal detector and check women’s purses. That day, I worked with ”Cowboy.” That was the name he gave me. I never heard a real name. He was a big gentleman, six-foot-five inches tall and 300 pounds. 

Crew 2 is the minor league team for the Crew in the MSL, like what the Clippers are to the Cleveland Guardians. Standing at that back entrance, there is not any way to watch the match. So, from the time the gates opened until just before the end of the match two hours later, it was just Cowboy and me, and four customers. 



Cowboy liked to talk. And talk he did for most of our time together. When we were done, I knew more about Cowboy than I do about some of my own relatives. 

Cowboy works for the security company that manages both the Crew and Blue Jackets. He is also a lifelong bouncer at bars, “30 years and counting,” he said. Rough bars. Bars that employ bouncers like Cowboy because there is either trouble or trouble brewing. He said that country bars, by and large, are included in that category, including some right here in Columbus. That is how he picked up his nickname. 

He introduced me to a term I had not heard before. “These two guys were sitting at opposite ends of the bar. I noticed that they were “mean mugging” each other. I went to the one dude and asked him what his beef was with the other guy. The guy answered that the other dude was giving him dirty looks and it was getting him all steamed up.” 

To make a long and graphic story shorter and cleaner, Cowboy got the two “dudes who were mean mugging” together and soon they were buying each other beers. He was proud of that and said that a good bouncer prevents fights before they start. In my years as a principal, I believe I have caught one or two (or more) students mean mugging each other. A good principal should also be stopping fights before they begin. 

He taught me a mini-lesson on self defense, in case I did get into a fight. Luckily, I did not have to participate in the lesson, but only listen as he demonstrated his moves on an imaginary opponent. I expressed my thanks, hoping that if I ever do have a tussle, it won’t be with someone like Cowboy. Despite my newfound knowledge, I would lose. Badly. 

Cowboy lives alone “out in the middle of nowhere,” but he and his neighbors keep an eye on each other. The only problem he has is with some Madison County official who gives him a hard time about having too many inoperable cars on his property. Apparently, he has enough that the woman told him that he had to get a salvage yard license if he wanted to keep them. He covered up the cars and told her to prove that they were inoperable.

While I resented Cowboy’s monologue through most of the match, I began to appreciate hearing about this man’s life. By the end of the conversation, I learned about his parents, his family and his grown daughter. Like all of us, he is more than what he does for a living. He has hopes and dreams for himself and those he loves and, like everyone I get to meet on my life’s journey, I am richer for having this time with him. 

Each human being is created by God to be unique. Each human being is one of God’s creations. The world might just be a better place if two people who don’t know one another can talk on a rainy Sunday afternoon at the back of a stadium. 

Jim Silcott