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Wizard column: A child learns to be a fan

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By Michael Cooper, Staff Writer Updated 12:08 AM Friday, August 26, 2011

SPRINGFIELD — It’s been a long summer for the Wizard.

A lot of things I’d grown accustomed to last summer were erased fairly early this summer.

Case in point:

• The Reds have slowly sucked the fandom right out of me. Since when is playing for second place fun?

• Every college football team basically turned into the 1986 SMU program this summer. (I still bought the Phil Steele Preview a few days after it was released. Is it bad that I actually checked when it would be released?)

• The NFL lockout was BORING. And on top of that, it took the first three plays of their first preseason game against Detroit for me to realize my favorite team in all of sports, the Bengals, are likely in for their biggest down year in 25-plus years of downtrodden years.

Who wants to get excited about those things?

So I just sat at home, waiting and waiting and waiting for the actual football season to start. And with lots of free time (sports writers take a lot of vacation days in the summer), I had to do something.

I focused most of my energy on brainwashing my 16-month-old son, Christian, who I’ve affectionately dubbed “The Wiz Kid,” into loving football, and most importantly, Bengals football.

Every parent who loves sports has probably thought: “Should I brainwash my BLANK to believe BLANK is the greatest team to ever play organized sports, even if it means setting them up for a lifetime of heartbreak and loserdom?”

The short answer: Yes. If my son grew to love a team I couldn’t stand (I won’t name names), I don’t know how I’d handle it. So, let the brainwashing begin!

We started by learning all the names of the different balls we have around the house. At first he could say “ball,” then “base-ball,” then “bas-ket-ball.”

This summer, however, we spent working on saying a few different words. He picked up “football” very quickly, but only says “Who Dey” once out of every 10 times I ask him to say it. He hasn’t worn his Ochocinco jersey yet — but he will very, very soon.

Then, we started throwing the football around the house. Mostly, it goes like this: Christian throws ball to Daddy, who catches the ball as Christian celebrates by clapping his hands incessantly as I yell “Touchdown!” Daddy gently tosses the ball back to Christian, who then gets hit in the chest/face and laughs some more. It’s all in good fun. He loves it, but not as much as his Rock and Roll Elmo toy, which sings “Get out of that bed, and wash your face and hands” to the tune of Shake, Rattle and Roll over and over and over again.

Finally, I had to make sure he recognized when football was on TV, so I started taping old games from ESPNU (I must’ve watched Trey DePriest play in the Under Armour Game 10 times). While playing with his various toys around the house, I’d stop him when he walked by the TV to say: “Football.”

And for awhile, he truly didn’t care. But I was persistent. Before long, he gave in.

Now, when he walks by the TV and we’re watching ESPN or anything with even a snippet of football, he’ll shout: “Football!”

And now the Wiz Kid loves football.

That’s my boy.

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