Gregory Strichek
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God Bless, Tim. What Peen said, ditto. .
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Thank you, everyone. Your words truly do mean a lot. Although I've never met any of you, I feel like I'm amongst lifelong friends. That's one of the greatest things about being a Browns fan, we are all family. My father always saw the best in people, and I truly believe he can rest easier knowing that Ive found a group of remarkably kind folks such as yourselves.
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Sorry to hear about your loss. My thoughts are with you and your family.
Take care and remember the good times when it gets difficult.
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Thanks for sharing. I know your memories will help you find peace at this difficult time. God Bless.
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Your dad would burst with pride over your thoughtful and sincere remarks. It's obvious he did a fantastic job in making you the man you are today. May he RIP
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Your dad sounded like an awesome person and dad. I am sorry for your loss and if I can give some words of wisdom. It only gets easier.
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Awesome post my man, great stuff. You are very lucky to have had such a great relationship with your father, it is not as common as many think. He raised you right, your post was spot on and very well stated.
The Browns were and are a common bond for a lot of people, whether friends, family or acquaintances. What you two shared by being diehards opened up other avenues for your relationship because of that bond, and that is kickass!
I didn't have the best relationship with my father and he wasn't a huge sports fan, but when I was old enough to walk I can remember being in front of the TV singing the National Anthem and getting pumped for the Browns. I remember some of our first live games, like Turkey Joe spiking the dumb hillbilly. I also remember sitting in our living room for Red Right.
As I got older in my teens, I started watching the games at friends' houses because they were more diehard and all that, but I look back now and kind of feel bad about it. Losing someone like this puts things in perspective and it is a great opportunity to look within yourself and even become a better person going forward. Best of luck to you!
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Yesterday afternoon my father, Gregory Strichek, passed away while in the hospital. He was 55 years old. I felt the need to post this because if it weren't for my father, I wouldn't be the Browns fan I am today. My father was born in Youngstown, Ohio and was the biggest die-hard Brownie fan you will ever meet. Born into a largely Steeler biased household, my father rebelled and clung to the Browns. His wardrobe consisted of many colors, but his heart bled orange and brown, as those were his true colors. He raised me the right way and molded me into the Browns fan I am today.
Although diabetes and infection took both of his legs, his eyesight, his sternum, and three of his fingers, it never took away his zest for life. Every Sunday we'd throw on our jerseys and head to Beef O' Brady's, owned by a family friend (and giant Steeler fan), and watch our beloved Brownies take the field. We had our own special corner booth and our own tv, and we'd start off the game with a pitcher of Coors light and a basket of onion rings and fried mushrooms. It's funny how you remember the little things like that.
Although confined to a wheelchair, my father never believed in limitations. At every one of my semi-pro football games, he could be seen zipping along the sidelines, cheering us all on. He put his heart and soul into cheering for us. He truly was a member of the team, and everybody loved him dearly.
He was the greatest man Ive ever known. Good people seemed to gravitate towards him. After his wife left him abruptly last year, I moved in with him to take care of him. As it always seemingly happens, he ended up taking care of me more than I ever did him. As time went on, his friends became my friends and mine became his. Now what's he's left behind is a tangled mass of people who would have never known each other if it weren't for him. He had that affect on people, he could bring anybody together in any circumstances. He was Gods gift to those who knew him.
He was my best friend and my biggest supporter. We used to sit back and dream about the day when I'd put on that Browns jersey for the first time, and step out onto the field in Cleveland Browns Stadium. My only wish is that he could have been around long enough to see it happen. But I know that he's in Heaven now, finally seeing me with perfect clarity and he'll be there the day I fulfill our dream.
But for now I sit here, trying to compose his obituary, something no 21-year old should have to do, and I look back and smile, thinking of the little things ill miss. Like "his play", a vertical Cover 2 seam bust to the Tight end. Any time he'd see that play, his eyes would light up and he'd sat " See! There it was! That's my play!". Or his hatred for Art Modell and Jake Delhomme. Or his hounddog-like Dawg Pound howl that never sounded quite right, but was always welcome. These are the things I'll never forget. I know it will get much harder before it ever gets better, but until I find sleep once again, I can sit up and watch DVR'ed Browns games. And every time McCoy hits Evan Moore in the deep middle, it will be like he never left.
So, here's to you Dad, the greatest man I've ever known. I miss you more every day, but you're finally at peace now.
"Go Browns, and xxxx you Modell"
Yesterday afternoon my father, Gregory Strichek, passed away while in the hospital. He was 55 years old. I felt the need to post this because if it weren't for my father, I wouldn't be the Browns fan I am today. My father was born in Youngstown, Ohio and was the biggest die-hard Brownie fan you will ever meet. Born into a largely Steeler biased household, my father rebelled and clung to the Browns. His wardrobe consisted of many colors, but his heart bled orange and brown, as those were his true colors. He raised me the right way and molded me into the Browns fan I am today.
Although diabetes and infection took both of his legs, his eyesight, his sternum, and three of his fingers, it never took away his zest for life. Every Sunday we'd throw on our jerseys and head to Beef O' Brady's, owned by a family friend (and giant Steeler fan), and watch our beloved Brownies take the field. We had our own special corner booth and our own tv, and we'd start off the game with a pitcher of Coors light and a basket of onion rings and fried mushrooms. It's funny how you remember the little things like that.
Although confined to a wheelchair, my father never believed in limitations. At every one of my semi-pro football games, he could be seen zipping along the sidelines, cheering us all on. He put his heart and soul into cheering for us. He truly was a member of the team, and everybody loved him dearly.
He was the greatest man Ive ever known. Good people seemed to gravitate towards him. After his wife left him abruptly last year, I moved in with him to take care of him. As it always seemingly happens, he ended up taking care of me more than I ever did him. As time went on, his friends became my friends and mine became his. Now what's he's left behind is a tangled mass of people who would have never known each other if it weren't for him. He had that affect on people, he could bring anybody together in any circumstances. He was Gods gift to those who knew him.
He was my best friend and my biggest supporter. We used to sit back and dream about the day when I'd put on that Browns jersey for the first time, and step out onto the field in Cleveland Browns Stadium. My only wish is that he could have been around long enough to see it happen. But I know that he's in Heaven now, finally seeing me with perfect clarity and he'll be there the day I fulfill our dream.
But for now I sit here, trying to compose his obituary, something no 21-year old should have to do, and I look back and smile, thinking of the little things ill miss. Like "his play", a vertical Cover 2 seam bust to the Tight end. Any time he'd see that play, his eyes would light up and he'd sat " See! There it was! That's my play!". Or his hatred for Art Modell and Jake Delhomme. Or his hounddog-like Dawg Pound howl that never sounded quite right, but was always welcome. These are the things I'll never forget. I know it will get much harder before it ever gets better, but until I find sleep once again, I can sit up and watch DVR'ed Browns games. And every time McCoy hits Evan Moore in the deep middle, it will be like he never left.
So, here's to you Dad, the greatest man I've ever known. I miss you more every day, but you're finally at peace now.
"Go Browns, and xxxx you Modell"
Sorry to hear about your loss. I lost my father and best friend in April to cancer. I would like to say it will get easier but I am still waiting myself. God Bless!!!
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I just wanted to say thanks once again to everyone. Your kind words have been something I have looked toward during the rough times. You all are fantastic people, thank you so much.
A sidenote-
I told nobody in my family that I had written this. I only wrote it so that those people who never knew my father could know a little bit about him. Truthfully, it was very therapeutic for me, as it helped ease some of the great emotions I was feeling the day after his death. However, some friends of my father's found what I had written, and showed it to my family. At my aunt's request, a cousin (who my father absolutely adored) read this at the funeral as a sort of eulogy. I had no idea until the morning of the funeral of any of these plans. Needless to say, it came as a real shock to me, and it was very difficult. But, in true Strichek fashion, my aunt threw in a nice Steeler joke at the end to lighten things up a tad. I know my father would have loved it.
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