Today we celebrate the men who sit beside us in the snow over the carcass of a freshly-killed stag, almost but not quite lending a comforting hand. And the other kinds of dads too, I suppose.


Having been a father for five years running, the trailer for the new God of War really kicked me in the emotions when Sony debuted it earlier this week. It reminded me of my birth father, taking me out into the woods with a gun when I was ten years old, clumsily trying to establish a bond that never quite stuck.

But beyond that more obvious analogue, the sequence between Dad Kratos and his son (aside from the epic battle in the middle) is a rite many fathers and children go through. My real dad taking me to a baseball game, telling me stories of the days when he played the game in college. Or me sitting down with my kids and playing video games. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t. It’s really more about the ritual than the results.


Today we celebrate fathers, be they ours, someone else’s or even the fathers we hope we’ll be one day

Me? I’m the sort of father currently wondering how old my sons have to be before I can pull off these two as cosplay. Wish my children luck.