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Happy Father's Day to everyone. 

When I was 8 my Father took me to sign up for Baseball.  It was not Little League, but the closest thing to it.  Dad was going to be the Manager of our team, and I was super excited about playing.  I am a firm believer in "sports build character" and my years as an athlete taught me many life lessons.

My father smoked "Dukes".  Later in my life I worked in retail and sold cigarettes and never saw that brand.  It must have left the market when my father quit smoking.  In that Spring, Dad put his cigarettes down on a counter in the kitchen and said he could not smoke if he was working with children.  Those cigarettes laid on the counter the entire summer.  I really did not like that my parents smoked and I was so happy he quit. 

Dad was a pharmacist and he was a dedicated employee.  He had lots of flexibility in his job those years and he practiced us often and he worked hard with us.  I was terrible that first year, and although I was the coach's son I played the minimum required.  I was content that my father was fair and that I did not have to answer questions about playing the entire game because I was the coach's son.

My second year was different and I played the entire game and batted near the top of the order.  There are lots of stories about my two year playing on my father's team, but I believe this one really says a lot about who my father was.  BTW my father was 6' and around 220.  In 1968 and 1969 that was pretty big, but he was a gentle giant.

So like most kids I played baseball in the neighborhood.  In the neighborhood a game could have kids from 6 to 17 or 18 years playing and that was just how it was.  One neighbor kid was a star player in all sports in school and I watched him whenever possible to try and learn.  One day we are playing and I am going to tag him out and he smacks my glove and the ball rolls free.  Well that pissed me off, but I thought I learned something.  So during a game I am going to be out and I smack the glove of the opponent, however the opponent did not lose the ball.  My Dad was pissed.  He had false teeth and he was so mad when I came in his teeth flew out of his mouth when yelling at me.  He pulled me from the game and I cried big tears.  I was not so upset about being pulled out of the game, but upset that I disappointed my Father.  Normally seeing a grown man's teeth fly out of his mouth would be a funny thing, but please believe I was not going to laugh.

Dad had a total of 5 children with 3 ladies.  I grew up with him and my Mother and my sister was their child as well.  The other three boys I met briefly after I turned 24.  My parents divorced after my sister and I were both in college.  He actually went to Arizona and re-married his first wife.  Later I went to live in Arizona and we remained close until he passed in November of 1990.  I could never ask for more for a Father and I have so many stories, that I could not share them all.

So I know most of you are Fathers and Sunday will be your special day.  I would suggest if you are like me and your Father has passed, take some time to reflect on your memories with him and although there may be good and bad, try to concentrate on those things that are good.

Have a great weekend, and as always, be safe.