Father’s Day

One of the first things I remember is having a catch with my dad in the front of the house when I was about six years old. I recall that once I started getting better and was able to throw the ball further I would take a few steps back. “Don’t move too far back I can’t reach,” my dad said. It didn’t make sense to me. He was in better physical shape than most men in their late 30s and played baseball in his youth, how could he not reach? “I’m not a lefty,” he said. “I just wanted you to be able to get used to seeing it,” he added. That was my dad in a nutshell. He went out of his comfort zone to acclimate me to facing lefties. Bear in mind, I wouldn’t be facing an actual pitcher for a couple years. At that age, the batters face a pitching machine. That was only the beginning. Everything my ...