The Rivalry

My brother and I are different. A lot different.

He is 6'2 with long wavy hair. I am barely 5'10 with short straight hair. I enjoyed school and did well,  where as my brother was not particularly interested in sitting still and listening to a teacher drone on and on about any subject. My brother is tech savvy, having been self taught in the ins and outs of computer hardware and software. I would need a manual just to know where the on switch was or I would just ask my brother(I tend to choose the latter). He was rebellious and pushed the envelope, and while I wouldn't say I didn't have my moments, but my brother's indiscretions definitely trumped mine.

My brother had the self confidence and bravado befitting a young Hollywood star. He always wanted the glory and the limelight in everything he did. On the basketball court he never met a shot he didn't like. When he played football he had to be the quarterback. That was how he was wired- That he could do or be anything if you let him.

Little brother, on the other hand, didn't have that self confidence. I tried to fake it, but in reality I was always racked with nerves and doubt. Before a big game I was a wreck. I could shoot well, but if an opportunity arose to pass the ball to a teammate I would do just that- Pass. My attitude drove my brother nuts. He would scold me after games for not shooting the ball when I was open. That was just how I was wired- I'll pass up an opportunity if it means I don't fail.

We were the real life version of Wayne and Kevin Arnold from the "Wonder Years". I was the "scrote" to his "butthead". We would push and antagonize each other, which is easy to do when you share a room growing up for as many years as we did. He would chase me around the house with a rubber shark until I cried or my mom ordered him to stop. I once hit him in the head with a talking Alf doll that contained a huge battery that left his head black and blue. All of our activities or encounters ended in the same fashion: having fun, then an argument, escalating into a fight that ended with both of us being upset and my mom scolding us.

Though we knew one of us would get upset with the other in just about anything we did it never stopped us from playing with one another. I played the role of David to his ever growing Goliath in our preferred game of one-on-one basketball. Goliath nearly always won. The few times I did get the better of him I was sent racing to my best friends house a few blocks away or locked away in the bathroom calling my mom for help. My brother was ultra-competitive and I would get that way too when I played against him. I would have to claw, scratch, and generally survive during these front yard battles of one-on-one.

I knew when  went out onto the driveway that I badly, almost desperatley, wanted to win. My brother was the same way, only he not only wanted to win, but he wanted to whup my butt, teach me a lesson, and show me who was boss. The games were very, very personal to us both. In these daily lessons the passive and fearful little brother had to transform himself. I could not be scared and I could not pass off my doubts to anyone else. I had to stare my brother down. I couldn't let him know I was afraid of him. In a sense if I was going to beat him I was going to have to become him. The playing mantra of- Act As If!

In these rare moments I became angry and I exuded confidence, granted it was not real, but I made it feel real. I bought into the idea that I was better than my brother. I talked myself into being able to beat him. I told myself, "I can beat him. I don't need anyone else." I became aggressive and all of the frustration of being a little brother came out while I played my big brother. He would lower his shoulder into me, hit me, brutalize me, antagonize and frustrate me during these games. He wanted to rattle me. And he did. More times than not I would run inside angry and wounded. Usually,  I would lick my wounds and return. On other occasions my brother would come in and talk me back outside. Class would be back in session.

I learned a lot from those games, mostly about myself. I was playing against someone who was physically more gifted and dominant than I was. I would never be able to match his athletic or physical ability so I had to be smarter and I had to get tougher. I spent hours on the driveway shooting jumpers because if I was going to beat him I needed to be able to clear the ball quickly and be ready to shoot. My brother would always dare me to shoot and I needed to make him pay. As I got older I was able to beat him a couple of times. In some of those games, maybe I got lucky with bank shot to win or a circus shot from the neighbors house that he counted. As time when on there were also games when I flat out played better than him.

I will always remember those games in the driveway, the night sky falling upon us as our mom switched on the light for us to see, as the days I learned what it took to be better. There will always be someone with better talents and skills like my brother at the time. But to offset that a person can have a better drive or ambition to be better than their opponent. My brother beat me more often than I ever beat him. However, the few wins I did get were because he showed me what I needed to do, how hard I had to work to not only compete with him, but to beat him.

Now its hard to say that we have grown apart only living a few blocks away from each other. Yet, we live different lives. He has a family and is very active in his kids school and their athletics. I am searching for work and spending time with my fiance. It is definitely not the same as when we shared a room for all those years when we were kids.

My brother and I recently went to the Niners/Giants game in San Francisco. My brother and I, to add to our rivalry, have always liked different teams growing up. He liked Phil Sims and the New York Giants. I loved Joe Montana and the 49ers. He liked the Minnesota Twins and I was a fan of the San Francisco Giants. The same with basketball as I liked Jordan and he liked Dominque Wilkins. He and I never could agree on anything; other than the simple fact we both could not stand the other person's favorite player or team.

Sitting in the parking lot, my brother wearing a throwback Lawrence Taylor jersey and me with my Niners shirt on, we were like the many fans there that day divided by the love of our team. Our own sibling rivalry continuing. Or was it?

My brother and I sat out in that parking lot before the game and talked about everything. Everything except for the game. We discussed family, recent news, sports, and making cracks about other people that sat around us. At one time, in our younger years, we would have been barking at one another about who had the better team. We would have belittled and mocked each other till kickoff about who had the better defense or why the other quarterback was awful. Instead, we were more content to hear about each other. The details of what is going on in each other's life. It reminded me of the days when we were little and we would talk to each other before we went to bed. Falling asleep laughing as our mom told us to be quiet. We no longer have that sibling rivalry that dominated our adolescent life. We now are just two adults trying to navigate our lives through this world.

I'll always look back fondly on the many battles my brother and I had growing up knowing that the rivalry was good... while it lasted.