Don't Let Everything Divide Us...
by Bill Gouveia for the Sun Chronicle
As we enter 2018, we are a country divided. Our political, philosophical and societal differences have solidified into an almost impenetrable barrier.
Forget the issue of race, which has always been an obstacle to better understanding. Today we are divided by far more things including economic status, geographic background, politics, and yes — sports teams. Again, no surprises except for the depth and vitriol now accompanying those divisions.
All of which made me think of my late friend Bill Godun. He has been gone 15 years now, but looking back I wonder just how we came to be so close, and if it would even be possible today.
You see, Bill and I had virtually nothing in common. He was a New Yorker, complete with the accent and the attitude. His personality, outlook on life and entire philosophy was almost exactly opposite my own.
To begin with, Bill was a diehard New York Yankees fan. To this lifelong Red Sox fan, that alone can be disqualifying when it comes to friendship. He was also a strident supporter of the New York Giants, which is almost worse. He died before the Giants beat my beloved Patriots in two Super Bowls. I shudder to think of the abuse I would have taken had he still been around.
Bill was a chain-smoker to the tune of some four packs per day (while at the same time taking breathing pills for asthma – the stubborn idiot.) I have never smoked. Bill drank a lot of beer, often to what many might consider excess. I am a social drinker at best, preferring to stick to Coke. He liked his steak cooked until it had the consistency of leather. I like mine to moo when stuck with the fork.
Bill hated politics, while I am a political junkie. When he did get political, he was definitely a conservative Republican. I am (surprise) a liberal Democrat. I try hard to be considerate when voicing my opinions to others, although I am hardly shy. Bill was as subtle as a hurricane, with little time or desire for the niceties of polite conversation.
Yet, we became not just friends, but close friends. The kind you share your innermost secrets with. The type you trust, without even stopping to analyze exactly why.
Bill was there for many special moments in my life. When we moved into our “new” house almost 30 years ago, he was there to help. When my young sons hit their first-ever “over the fence” little league home runs, Bill sent them engraved plaques to hold the balls. When he traveled this way on business, he stayed at our house. He was the only person my wife ever allowed to smoke in our home.
When the ball rolled through Buckner’s legs in the 1986 World Series, Bill was at my house. He said I looked so pathetic even he didn’t have the heart to bust me about “the Dead Sox”. When his beloved Giants won their first Super Bowl, we watched the game together. That might be the happiest I ever saw him.
Then in January 2002, he was diagnosed with terminal cancer. We both cried. Despite an aggressive course of treatment, he went downhill fast.
But we were to have one more great time together. With the help of a friend, we went to the Super Bowl that next month to watch my Patriots win for the very first time. We shared one last amazing experience and memory.
I will always cherish my friendship with Bill. We never felt the need to explain or analyze it, we just enjoyed it. We accepted each other for what we were – blemishes and all.
So looking back as we start this New Year:
If a chain-smoking, hard-drinking, conservative republican Yankee fan can become the best of friends with a non-smoking, soft drink sipping, liberal democratic Red Sox rooter, then almost anything is possible. Our differences don’t have to divide us. Sometimes they can bring us together.
Bill probably would be a Trump supporter if he was still here, and we would be arguing about that big-time. But then we’d talk family, watch a game and enjoy each other’s company.
There’s a message there for all of us heading into this new year.
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