Too often in life, me included, we go through the motions to get what we want. We don't appreciate what we already have. Perhaps I'm projecting a bit here, but let me tell a little story.
I grew up good. I had a nice life back then. On the cusp of entering my first year of Little League, my Father decided to coach a team called Don Lewis in Clarion, Pennsylvania. My Father was a great athlete and still is. He once made a last second shot when our local alumni faced off against some of the Pittsburgh Steelers. That shot won the game, or so I thought. I wrote about that once before. Of course, they turned back the clock so the Steelers could cement victory and save face, yet I look back on that as an introduction to Corporate America. I understand its place, but I never did like Corporate America. I love the Steelers, though:)
When my Father decided to coach that Little League Team, I was excited and scared. I, of course, became a part of that Little League team. We had talent that year, no doubt about that. But Don Lewis was never known as being an elite team in our particular area. We ended up going 18-0 that year. I suppose I could attribute that to players such as Mr. Doran, Mr. Foster, Mr. Fleming, and maybe even a young kid who tended to be a classic underachiever until something important needed to be done. My Dad was just as responsible for that, though. While he knew the sport, knew how to practice and teach it, I believe that his greatest quality was he was fun every step of the way. And he was loving...
Winning isn't what my Father taught me about. There's two things I learned in my time back then. The first thing was when I grabbed a live ball out of mid-air (what some would call a great catch) and that sucker (My Dad) ran onto to the field and lifted me up in the air, giving me a great big hug. I wasn't wise in those days, but I didn't think that would look so good or professional. He didn't much care; I was his son. I was embarrassed back then, but lend a tear to my cheek when I think of it now. The guy really loves me.
The other thing I learned from those times is when I got hit by a pitch for the first time. For anyone who hasn't been hit by a baseball flying at you at any speed (in this case, I believe it was about 70 mph), it stings a bit. I was probably only 12 years old at that time and after I got hit, I went my way to first base. My Father ran out to the field and I didn't feel much until I looked into his eyes. There was a bit of concern in there. That's when I began to cry. I didn't cry because I was hurt and decades later we both learned physical pain isn't much of a thing to me, but I cried because he was worried and I didn't ever want to see him in that position again. In hindsight, I think I also cried because he cared enough to worry in the first place.
He has a heart of gold, a heart of gold...
Happy Father's Day, Dad. I love you with every breath I'll ever take. And when those breaths stop, I'll love you on the other side.
your son...
Now dance:)
;)
;)
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY MR. SARDI!!!!!
You deserve a huge 'thanks' from me for raising such a beautiful soul. I have a deep appreciation for all that you accomplished ;) Big hug from me!!!
Gee, he was cute once, wasn't he??