By Peter Gallagher |
Caleb Patterson can count, on two hands, the number of Pilot soccer matches he’s missed in the last eight years. If he had to, he’d put the number of matches he’s attended at “140-ish.” Patterson’s rough estimate does not include the numerous basketball games and volleyball matches he works into a schedule that can put even athletes to shame.
“I could go back and find the schedules and get an actual number,” Patterson said. “But that’d take a trip to the archives.”
One year stands out, however, when Patterson’s loud voice could not be heard from the sidelines. On Sept. 15, 2009, a motorist struck and killed Patterson’s father, Gordon, as he biked home from Hudson’s Bay High School, where he taught science for 12 years. In a grim coincidence, the motorist turned out to be a former student.
That year, Patterson took time away from the stands to grieve alongside his family. When he returned to the bleachers for the 2010-11 season, Patterson brought a renewed enthusiasm and a growing sense of purpose.
“I took fandom very passively up until I lost my dad,” Patterson recalled. “Until I lost him, I didn’t realize how much encouragement and how much of a role he played in my life. A lot of people didn’t. I wouldn’t say losing him was good. But I was able to find a greater good, encouraging people.”
In a town that breeds fan rabidity, and at a school whose fandom is as notable as its sports teams, Patterson stands out among supporters for his investment in the team’s fortunes.
Overwhelming positivity emanates from Patterson. It’s a contagious disposition that has developed since Patterson received news of his father’s death four years ago.
“Fandom to me … it’s encouragement,” Patterson said. “It was because of my dad showing up and encouraging me. That enthusiasm, that encouragement, that ‘I’ll be there every game, or as many games as I can be there for,’ that’s what a fan is. A fan is somebody who takes the time of day to care about their kids, or someone else’s kids, and encourage them no matter what they’re doing.”
Patterson attributes his signature booming voice to his father.
“If you’re going to be blessed, or cursed, with a loud voice, then use it. For good,” Patterson said.
Patterson’s support for the things he loves goes beyond what he can do with his voice or a tube of body paint. Patterson’s father graduated from UP’s Master of Education program, dedicating 25 years of his life to teaching science.
To commemorate his father’s career, Patterson has begun fundraising for the Gordon Patterson Memorial Scholarship, working alongside Amy Kwong-Kwapisz, director of community professional development in the School of Education. The scholarship will provide financial backing for undergraduates and those pursuing their master’s degree in education at UP.
“I have had more funds coming in from this appeal than anything we’ve done in a while,” Kwong-Kapisz said of the fundraising efforts. “I think people know about Gordon Patterson, they know who he is, and they value what he has done.”
Last Saturday, Patterson led a bike ride in Vancouver to raise money for the scholarship. But Sunday?
“On Sunday, how am I? What am I? Where am I? I have no idea,” Patterson said.
He’s asked friends and family to wear white at a small gathering at the site of the accident in remembrance of his father, who became known for his trademark white lab coat while teaching.
“What do you think about when you lose somebody? I try to think about the positives … About the good he did in 25 years of teaching,” Patterson said.
So on Sunday, when the men’s and women’s soccer teams faced opponents at Merlo Field, one attendee was notably absent. And for one day out of the year, Patterson shed his Pilot purple and donned his father’s white.
