A day to remember that dad knocked it out of the park

By William Wilczewski

 

It’s difficult to celebrate Father’s Day and not think about sports.

It’s one of those peanut butter and jelly things for me, and I’m sure a lot of you out there.

I mean, no matter what you’re into, there’s a great chance that good ol’ dad was part of teaching you the basics, right?

I’ll bet he was also there the first time those basics didn’t quite work out.

What I mean to say, is that curve balls aren’t easy to face in the batter’s box or in life, but just about every father I know has helped their son or daughter with both—and so many times that I’ll bet it’d make a calculator melt if you were to add ‘em up one by one.

Because this is a column—and not a novel—I’ll keep it brief, but allow me count the ways …

1.) A curve ball; how to throw one and hit one, and how to deal with it when you strike out on a zinger or throw a 3-2 pitch behind the batter because you still don’t quite have it down on the mound yet.

2.) A spiral; destined to be a quarterback or not, there’s nothing quite like watching the perfect NERF pass sail through the air and hit your brother in full stride as he races down the sideline on the way to the two-T-shirt end zone markers in your backyard.

3.) A straight-arm; okay, watching your other brother fall face-first into the mud because dad taught you how to plant your palm firmly into his noggin on the way to that same end zone might be better.

4.) A layup; alright, I know this isn’t the late 19th Century anymore, so you probably turned that peach basket James Naismith move into an under-the-rim, double-pump circus-act shot that’s worthy of an ESPN highlight, but if it weren’t for old pops’ fundamentals, you’d have had no business on the court in the front yard driveway to begin with.

5.) A straight 300-yard drive; I know, you deserve a little credit on this one, too, because you probably spent the better part of a summer on the driving range trying to avoid that all-too-common slice or draw that seems as natural as the grass on the course itself. But, it was your mother’s husband that taught you about the width between both feet, the shifting of your weight, keeping that front elbow straight and the ever-so-important follow-through. Without those lessons, you’d look about as comfortable on the links as an elephant on roller skates.

6.) Speaking of wheels, it was likely your uncle’s brother that taught you how to drive a car, right? Without that little nugget of knowledge, it would end up getting quite expensive taking a taxi to all those Cardinals, Suns, Coyotes or Diamondbacks games. Heck, for that matter, there’s no way you could even dream of being Mario Andretti if you can’t even back out of your own driveway or parallel park on a busy city street—and dad was the guy who had the nail-biting patience to give you those skills. Don’t forget it.

7.) Also don’t forget the wrist shot. Sure, everybody glamorizes the slap shot, but it’s the wrister that can turn a goalie’s knees into Jell-O when that little beauty sails around his glove like somebody just a allowed a mini-boomerang onto the hockey rink.

Like I said, I know this could go on forever, and I’m sure I’ve missed about 3,043 other priceless things our fathers have taught us from their Encyclopedia Of Sport, but let’s end on a touchdown and a two-point conversion, or …

8.) Losing; because, if you ask me, how to handle that is the best lesson that sports teach us. Don’t think so? Well, as my old man once told me: “Son, batting .300 for a season makes you an All-Star. It also means you were out 7 of 10 times, but the fact that you kept working hard and coming back to the plate to begin with is what makes you a champ in my eyes.”

Alright, those may not have been his exact words, but his point was clear as glass: Whether it’s sports or life, you’re going to face those curve balls. Sometimes you’ll whiff, but sometimes you’ll track it right to that elusive sweat spot and knock it out of the park.

If you ask me, I can easily say that my dad knocked it out of the park … and I’ve got a funny feeling yours did, too.

Thanks dads.

Wilczewski can be reached at wwilczewski@havasunews.com.