Marveling At Our Family Blessing That Came A Half Century Ago

"What do you think he will be someday?"

It was Monday, February 25, 1974 and the sunshine dappled like diamonds on Tampa Bay. He came into the world at about 8.6 pounds, the first Martin male of his generation, so there was cause for joy and celebration upon the news that it was a boy.

His paternal grandmother screamed out for joy over the phone at the news of a boy to go with two beautiful girls. Every man’s dream is to have a son, and now I had mine.

As my father and I left the Bayfront Hospital that afternoon he turned and asked me, “What do you think he’ll be someday?“ I paused for a moment and said, “I don’t know maybe a lawyer?” “Naah, probably not,” said his forward-thinking grandfather. “By then most of that will probably be done by computer.”

It was pre-ordained that his profession would have something to do with the media and maybe even sports journalism. And something to do with computers.

After his birth, I would turn in my sports editor’s card for a 9-to-6 job with free weekends to clear some bandwidth for a few years as a dad. First, though, he needed a name to go with that Bob Griese jersey hanging in his hospital room. (Thanks to his Aunt Shirley.)

I swear I did my very best to avoid making him over into my own image, even to the point of not saddling him with the ancestral link of “Wilton Francis Martin III” and the nickname “Tripp.” My goal was to “Give him an everyday name he can use.”

After first grade nobody had called me “Wilton.” Upon birth by Caesarian, the St. Pete doctor held him up and proudly announced “There he is — Pepper Martin!” I liked that. Except nobody but me would have gotten the Gashouse Gang baseball reference — especially his mother Joni.

For days I pondered a first name until I found one that was lyrically pleasing with no family ties: Brenden. E and not A. I’d never heard of but two people named Brenden — an Irish poet and a New Jersey governor. Then I threw in the show biz name of his maternal step-grandfather, a legit standup comedian, and we had Brenden Sharp Martin, the heir to my fortune someday. It would turn out to be a priceless fortune — even if it could not be cashed in at the bank.

Who else got to watch their boy grow into a handsome 6-4 lad who would become his best friend with whom he was privileged to work alongside in challenging media projects, chasing big dreams?

When he was 9, he tried out for baseball and once he found his way to right field was a decent player — especially at 14 after he was blessed to have the brilliant Walt Tomoka as his coach in Colorado. At 12 he took up football and made it at a high level at Ponte Vedra High (later Tim Tebow’s team) before moving back to Denver and losing interest. At 15 he took a trip to New York and when he walked on to the CBS set of The NFL Today his eyes lit up as he declared, “THIS is what I want to do!”

I loaned him out to Colorado’s Altitude Sports for a few years until I called him up from the bullpen as a producer at Florida Sportstalk radio, then to head up GatorCountry TV and finally as a partner in GatorBait.

Over the years, he has taught me a few things about myself and continues to amaze me with an eternal quest for knowledge that has qualified him as a virtual self-made genius in the specialized field of broadcasting online through audience procurement and development. I’ve had friends tell me he’s as good as there is.

Meanwhile, we continue to chase our rainbows and our dreams together — convinced that they will one day arrive perhaps simultaneously.

Naturally as in any family business, we’ve had differences and unpleasant exchanges at close quarters but mostly as two strong-minded creatives trying to arrive at the same place through different portals. I must admit he’s usually right. Dang it

Among the things I admire the most about Brenden Sharp Martin is his commitment to his daughter Stella and fatherhood. Although I could never be a better father, I can assure him that however much he loves Stella is how much I love him — and more if possible.

Here on his 50th birthday (Sunday, Feb. 25), speaking for his late mother Joni and I, we want to thank God for blessing us with the greatest son we could ever have. We could not be prouder of you.