My son, Jason, loves card shows. He loves meeting athletes, collecting autographs, and everything that goes along with it. And truth be told, part of the reason I encourage it is because it’s something I never had growing up. My father, because he hated sports, never wanted to take me to card shows or meet athletes. It’s not a trauma—I turned out fine because I paid it forward—but it’s something I never forgot.
So now, as a dad, I do what I can to make sure Jason doesn’t miss those moments. He doesn’t just attend the shows—he lives them. He even goes so far as to give advice to the promoter, a great guy named Lucky, about which athletes to bring in for autograph signings. Jason’s not shy. He told Lucky, “You need to bring in Harry Carson.”
If you’re a Giants fan, you know the name. Harry Carson is a legend—Hall of Famer, linebacker, leader of that iconic 1986 Super Bowl team. A player who bled blue, long before that was a marketing slogan.
For some reason or another, guys like Lawrence Taylor and Pepper Johnson are everywhere, but Harry has been M.I.A. from the autograph scene.
Well, Lucky listened and loved the idea.
He brought Harry Carson in for a signing at one of the shows. The turnout? Incredible. Long line. Tons of fans. And when we got to meet Harry, he couldn’t have been kinder—gracious, humble, the kind of guy you want your kid to look up to.
But here’s the part that got me. As a thank you for Jason’s suggestion, Lucky gave him a signed poster of Harry Carson. Not something we asked for. Not something we expected. Just a heartfelt gesture to say thank you.
That moment meant a lot—to Jason, of course, but also to me. Because in that small exchange, it reminded me why we do what we do as parents. We try to give our kids what we didn’t have—not out of guilt or obligation, but out of love. And sometimes, if we’re lucky, we get to watch them create moments they’ll never forget.
So thank you, Jason, for being bold enough to speak up. Thank you, Lucky, for being the kind of guy who listens. And thank you, Harry Carson, for being the kind of legend who lives up to the title.
Some memories don’t come from box scores or balance sheets. Sometimes, they come from a simple autograph and the look on your kid’s face when it’s handed to him.
And honestly, that’s worth more than anything I’ve got in my collection.
