FOR the last few years, I have been blessed to have my sister trust me just enough to allow her sons -my nephews- to venture up I-84 from Cromwell, Connecticut and across the Mass Pike into Boston to spend a three day/two night excursion with their Uncle Matt.
With the moving and shaking of summer vacations, basketball camps, baseball, soccer, golf lessons, birthday parties and every other obligation that comes with being eight and ten years old during that coveted two month break from school, it’s not the easiest to always find those three consecutive days that line up with the hustle and bustle of life as BostonMan.
But one late July morning I received the text from my sister: “August 11-13, they’re all yours, if you want them!”
So on the afternoon of Sunday the 11th I met my family in Worcester -the halfway point for any of us to drive- for an early birthday dinner at Mercantile, and to pick up my nephews for some summer fun.
As we transferred luggage and sleeping bags (just in case Uncle Matt didn’t have anywhere for them to sleep?) from my sister’s car to mine, the boys Nunu -my father- shouted out, “Don’t forget Benny needs to shoot 100 shots and fill in his shot chart.”
Years earlier, when I was Benjamin’s age, I weekly wore out boxes of pencils filling in shot charts from endless isolated shooting drills in my parents backyard during all hours of the day and night. Indeed, neighbors would even complain to my mother, “Does he ever stop shooting? Does he ever put that damn basketball away?”
“We got this Dad. Don’t worry,” I retorted looking over at Benjamin and nodding.
That evening, after a quick stop at Cal’s Creamery in Reading, for some Slush (note: our family still calls it Italian Ice) we decided to hit the hay early, knowing we had a big day ahead of us, as we dozed off to Despicable Me 4.
The following morning, after catching a few highlights on Sportscenter, we headed out -basketball and air pump in hand- for a quick breakfast at Blue Moon Grill and to hit the blacktops.
There is nothing like being on an outdoor basketball court on an early summer morning. Especially with your nephews.
It’s a timeless feeling of hope, optimism and endless possibilities. Something that never changes. Being on the court with Benjamin and Joshua took me back to the countless hours on the court I spent with my own brother when we were their age. Those were the greatest days of my life.
Before you knew it, I had ball in hand draining shots from all of my favorite spots on the court. Father Time will forever remain undefeated but for every great baller, the shot is the last thing to go.
“You know it’s going to go in even before Uncles Matt shoots it,” Joshua said to perhaps his brother, perhaps just to the universe.
All of a sudden I had a bounce in my step, one I hadn’t felt in years. These kids were bringing their Uncle Matt back to life.
Shot charts filled, we headed home to freshen up and get ready for the rest of our day.
Burgers and hot dogs at Wahlburgers was the choice for lunch -and of course a pic at the joint that the Wahlburgers IG page posted to their story; followed by a quick peruse of the bookstore next door where we each chose out a summer reading book.
After that, it was on to Hyde Park for the big mission of the day: a photoshoot + court time with Sensa Padel for a feature story in the very magazine you hold in your hands.
The boys, obviously photogenic, also have their share of raquet experience on the resume. They were pumped up and ready to go.
As we volleyed the padel ball back and forth over the net; caromed it off the back walls (a feature unique to Padel!) and “raquet-fived” each other after each point scored, the energy, laughter and love I was experiencing with my nephews was absolute bliss.
The bounce in my step that had begun to take shape on the basketball court earlier that morning was now amplified, I felt like an athlete again!
Then, for Benjamin and I, it was on to the master level of Padel. We found ourselves up against this AI enhanced robot, designed to fire rapid succession balls at you to be hit back. As my nephew and I were adjusting to our new opponent, I dug in deep.
It’s time to show these kids just what Uncle Matt has left in him. I planted myself and sprung forward to intercept a shot before it bounced; but all I heard was a sound I can only describe as the one you hear when ripping paper in half. My left calf was gone.
As we limped back to my car, photoshoot complete, the numbing and swelling in my calf was only outdone by the swelling and joy in my heart.
We stopped at Prince Pizzeria in Saugus for dinner on the ride home, and then retired for the evening watching John Candy’s classic Uncle Buck, because why not?
The next morning we were up early, building and organizing the Topps 2024 Series I baseball card set in our binder -another childhood favorite hobby of mine- before it was time to hit the road and meet my sister back in Worcester so the boys could get back to golf lessons, family vacations, back-to-school shopping and everything else that awaited them back home.
As we drove off, Joshua, seated out back, leaned forward and announced -perhaps to his brother and I, perhaps just to the universe: “These were the best days of the entire summer.”
Yes, they were. Thank you Benjamin and Joshua for giving them to your Uncle Matt.
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Matt Ribaudo is the owner and publisher of BostonMan Magazine. More importantly, he is ‘Uncle Matt’ to Brooklyn, Benjamin, Joshua, Gracie, Theo, & Charlotte. He can be reached at matt@bostonmanmagazine.com.
