Happy Father's Day

Father's day is the day we honor our fathers, the men who cared for the family, set examples, and protect his family. My own father did all those things for me growing up. My dad always worked more and more to leave our family financially secure while I was living there. We never starved. He made us be responsible for ourselves. My father made sure we were in church, Sunday mornings, Sunday evenings, and Wednesday evenings. When we (my sister and I) were old enough to drive, he got us a car to drive. And in my case, many more cars....

Whenever I think of my own father, these are the things that come to my mind.

I've always looked up to my father. I remember living in Memphis, as a kid. Having lots of snow on the ground for the first time I remember getting to play in it. My dad would spend hours pulling me on the sled and pushing me down hills. We both laughed as I ran into backyard fences and over the little cliff into the garden. He built us a pool. He moved us to Cincinnati. The year after we moved there, my dad took me to about 10 Reds games, where I immediately loved the game of baseball and the Reds. At the end of that season, my dad took me to a postseason game. It was in October and together we saw Jose Rijo, Eric Davis, and the rest of the Reds begin their domination over the Oakland Athletics on their way to the 1990 World Series title. I yelled so much, I lost my voice for the next 6 weeks. It is still one of the greatest 5 days of my life.

He took me to Bengals games. When I started playing games myself, he made sure I had new cleats, gloves, batting gloves, bats, whatever I needed. He pitched to me (and i payed him back by hitting him in the forehead more than once with the tennis balls). I still remember my dad and I sneaking out of the end of church to head downtown and catch the Reds' game.

I will never forget the time I got called out of class in 6th or 7th grade where I got called to the principle's office and was told to bring my books. When I got to the office, my dad was waiting there, looking somber. He told the school we had a family matter to deal with. Walking out to the car, I didn't know what to expect.

When I got to the car, I noticed my dad had packed our clothes and fishing poles and he started to chuckle. He was taking me out of school for 2 and a half days to go fishing in central Kentucky.

I remember getting my first car, a 1983 Ford Ranger 4x4 V6. It was black, and it had a manual transmission. One of the things my dad wanted for us was to be able to drive a stick. I remember making that truck hop and jump around like a giant bullfrog, all the while my dad is laughing so hard he can hardly breathe. I remember my dad being at the game in high school where I almost threw a no-hitter up in Hamilton, OH.

I remember going to Rangers' games, Mavericks games, stuff my dad always made sure we got to do. There was even a year after I moved out where my dad got the three of us (Mom, Dad, and I) tickets to see the Cincinnati Reds play in Texas vs. the Rangers.

I don't think I'll ever be able to repay my dad for all the things he did for me, mentioned and unmentioned. There's not a thing he could do that I wouldn't forgive him for. He's my dad, and always will be. Allowing me to write sports stories for the newspaper he still owns.

Thank you dad, for everything. For the things I know you did for me and the many things you did that I still don't know you did them for me. Thanks for being my dad.

I love you Dad.

Maltzy