My father is an amazing eight feet tall.

Strong as a mule, stubborn as an ox, I’ve seen him do things that, at times, seemed inhuman, out of reach. Impossible. He can grow a beard between tv breaks, turn an old lawn mower from a rusted out lawn ornament to a weed-destroying machine and hang drywall faster than coked up Bob Vila.

As men, we’re strange creatures. We’re born with this innate curiosity, this smoldering desire to prove ourselves. To prove that we’re men. To prove that we belong in the company of the giants we grew up idolizing…who we were raised to see as the model, the definition of manliness, the embodiment of concepts like courage, generosity, passion and leadership.

This list idols is constantly changing. You start with the baseline. Maybe it’s your dad. Your grandfather. An older brother.

…and then over time, that set evolves. You start shuffling. It takes the shape and form of whatever career, hobby or delinquent behavior you’re centering your life around. It’s a musician. An artist. An athlete. A political activist or television personality. Whoever you started with, whatever that initial set of idols looked like, it’s different now. Dad, or that big brother, or your stud grandfather…they get pushed up and down the roster as you chase some new fascination and then recognize how imperfect all these other heroes become the closer you get. These outsiders get dropped off, cast in the trashcan with the rest of the great thinkers and war heroes who, for a time, seemed flawless.

As men get older, this shuffling slows down. The revolving door develops some rust. It rotates every month, then every six months, then every year, and eventually it halts all together. We stop latching onto the hottest act, the guy grabbing the headlines. We stabilize. We cling to one or two figures who’ve stood the test of autobiographical study, personal interaction and general observation. We set a few channel markers to keep us from running aground and put the ship in gear.

For me, that’s my dad, and on a day when the Wings begin their annual dad’s trip with lap out to Toronto for tonight’s game, it seems appropriate to go a bit gonzo on the importance of idols that we men put in our lives.

Without question, men are gigantic idiots. I get it. …and I have references to prove this. Convincing yourself that you’re courageous…that you’re worth your salt…it’s a life-long pursuit. We’re this odd mix of ambitions, intentions and interactions that far too often shed the path of least resistance for the grittier one. We like the grind. The test. The tension.

I’m convinced that this quest of enlightenment is shaped by the men we pattern our lives after, and as noted here, that list shuffles. As goes the list, so goes our course we’re charting. Any man who’s honest enough to really look at HIS list will tell you there have been some embarrassing inclusions over the years….guys you were completely enamored by who later disappointed…some in moments of grand failure and some through the course of time who just became irrelevant.

…but that baseline…at least for me…has always been my dad. He’s been the one who kept me grounded, tethered to reality when I became enamored with some flavor of the day athlete or “smart guy” who seemed to have it figured out.

As the Wings lace ‘em up tonight, a lot of them will do so in front of their dads. Put yourselves in their shoes for a minute. Imagine what it’ll be like taking a shift knowing that your dad just rocked to the front of his seat when he saw you climb over the boards. Imagine the angst they’ll feel when they lose focus for a minute and lapse, knowing that they won’t get too many more chances to reprove themselves that night. Imagine the glory they’ll feel when they make THAT play…that small adjustment or game-changing move that they worked on as kids with their dad.

My gut says that tonight in that electrified Toronto arena, everyone with a Winged Wheel on their chest is going to feel very young. In some small sense, they’ll be transformed from million dollar athletes into sons, into men with idols. They’ll still be world class athletes, but for the men with dads in the stands, there’s a bit more on the line here than two points.

Lineup:
Franzen-Datsuyuk-Bertuzzi
Filppula-Zetterberg-Hudler
Miller-Abdelkader-Cleary
Nyquist-Emmerton-Conner

Lidstrom-White
Kronwall-Stuart
KIndl-Ericsson

Howard (starting)
Conklin

*So the question for the group…in an effort to take this in a bit lighter direction…is who is the person you’re most embarrassed of idolizing? Who was that flash in the pan you remember loving who you now look back on and cringe?