Mason Dixon Football League

I have been asked to share this with all of you. It was read by Pastor
Read at Ron Real's funeral


Ron Real
November 1, 1937 – June 10, 2008



“If you can’t move a mountain,
Move a grain of sand.

If you can’t reach a million people,
Touch a single hand.

You are just one human being,
So do the best you can.”


When my father first heard the words to this song, he knew that this was
the anthem that described his life.

It is not a popular song, and it is not sung by a popular artist. By
chance, he came across the woman who sings this song, selling her own CDs
at a flea market on the shore of Lido Beach where he lived in Florida. As
he walked past her booth, this song was playing over the speakers and Dad
stopped to listen.

As fate would have it, Dad found the words to describe his own life.

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My father never did any ONE-thing to mark his days on earth. He did not
become President. He did not step foot on the Moon. And he did not post a
video on You Tube that was seen by millions of people.

But what Dad did was a LOT OF LITTLE THINGS to mark his existence.

He raised a family by EXAMPLE.

He was the father that was always there for you. He went to more Hockey
games, Baseball games, Basketball games, Softball games, Football games
and other sporting events than any other father I knew.

And after every game, he would pat us on the back and say “Good Game Today.”

Never did we hear “you could have done this, you could have done that, you
could have done better.” That we TRIED OUR BEST was good enough for Dad.

Our home was always open to family and friends. Even though there were
times when he we didn’t have much, we always had enough to share. Our
dinner table was never empty (nor quiet) and our back door was never
locked.

Dad’s philosophy on FAMILY was never more evident when each year he would
host the “Real’s Annual Turkey Bowl”. Everyone was welcome (and I TRULY
mean WELCOME). Young, old, fast, slow, old friends that you hardly every
see, a stranger that you recently met, a friend…of a friend…of a friend.
Everyone was welcome.

We would play a little football, drink a little beer, and eat large
quantities of food.

Inevitably, as we would sit around the house, healing our wounds and lying
to each other about the remarkable quality of athleticism that we just
accomplished, Dad would make it around the room and THANK each person for
coming. You could see in his eyes that it was a PLEASURE for him to be
able to provide this day for you. No one knew that this tradition would
someday grow into something larger.

I do not know how Mom & Dad put up with everything that went on in our
house, but looking back on it now, I can see they were just doing THE BEST
THEY CAN.



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Dad also had another FAMILY. That was his FOOTBALL FAMILY.

Dad founded the American Football Association nearly 30 years ago. It was
his wish to advance the careers of minor league players into the
professional ranks.

Dad took the mostly grass roots teams and organized them into a national
association. The AFA became known as a quality organization….a honorable
group to be a member of….and a class act.

Along the way, Dad touched the lives of many people.

Of course there were the football players. Dad really loved these guys. He
loved to learn of their backgrounds. Where did they come from. Who did
they play for. What was their struggle. And he remembered every story.

There were also coaches, trainers, officials, statisticians,
administrators and cheerleaders that were affected by Dad’s work.

Dad took great pride in everything he did for “HIS PEOPLE”. From the fonts
on his newsletters to the nominees into the Hall of Fame, Dad had his
finger on the pulse.

Little did we know at the time, but many of these people really loved Dad
back.

As the news of Dad’s illness spread, he began to receive emails from
across the country. In these emails, people would detail how Dad had
touched their lives. Many of these letters began with “Dear Ron, Although
we have never met, I would like to thank you…”.

Dad read each and every one of these emails. And when he was too weak, Mom
would read them to him.

He laughed. He cried. He REALIZED that his passion for his work had made a
lasting impression on people. He had done the BEST HE CAN.

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Most recently, Dad focused some attention on improving the lives of those
who lived closest to him. As president of the condo association where he
lived, Dad worked to raise the standards of the building.

He changed some rules. He planted some trees. He did what DAD ALWAYS DID.
He tried to improve the things he could.

In the last couple of weeks, Dad liked to go out onto the lanai and look
at how beautiful the grounds of the condo were kept. One day, Mike (the
Manager of the condo) was on his daily patrol, picking up fallen palm
branches, when he caught Dad’s eye. Although Dad was too weak to speak, he
motioned to Mike the “THUMBS UP” …just to let him know he appreciated him
trying to DO THE BEST HE COULD.



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Dad was a trusted FRIEND to many.

Not only did he stay in touch with many of his childhood friends like Jim
Allen, Stan Pernal, and Ron Gullina, but he made NEW friends almost
everyday.

The woman at the UPS station was a friend of Dad. The man at the Post
Office was a friend of Dad. Bonnie and Bill in the corner unit were
friends of Dad. And certainly, the bartender at the Tiki Bar was a friend
of Dad’s.

He was the funniest man I ever knew. The king of the one-liners. And he
had a remarkable way of telling a story.

It is comforting to know that right now, Dad is with his Brother and
BESTEST FRIEND, Uncle Don, sitting at a table…having a drink…making each
other laugh…and in search of the best pizza in heaven


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In closing, I would like to add that Dad may not have moved any mountains,
nor did he reach a million people.

But he sure pushed a lot of sand around…and he touched a lot of hands.

After all, he was just one human being…….doing THE BEST HE CAN.


Thank you all,
Rory Real

That was a really nice. Thanks for posting it.