I grew up in New York’s Hudson Valley. My dad wasn’t the biggest sports fan. But for some reason, I was and still am (obviously because I publish a baseball blog.) My father always did things that interested me. I know now, looking back, it didn’t interest him at all. But like many father’s, he did it because his son enjoyed it. And from that, he got his enjoyment of being a father.
It was 1994 and there was much excitement around the valley. A minor league baseball team was coming and making its home in Fishkill, NY. If you’ve never been, well honestly you’re not missing too much. But needless to say, lots of people were excited. There was even a contest to name the team. One morning my dad came home from what I thought was a usual trip to the grocery store. Needless to say it wasn’t. My dad, the guy who didn’t follow any sports team, didn’t even read the sports section, couldn’t tell you who Mickey Mantle was, had risen from his slumber early in the morning to wait on line…to buy tickets. These weren’t just any tickets. They were tickets to the inaugural home opener of the Hudson Valley Renegades. Thanks to my dad, me, my best friend and his father got to go to the very first game of the Renegades. While it’s not the home opener of a new Yankee Stadium or any other world-renowned team, it was still special.
The Renegades are still kicking around and so is dad. He took the time to get the tickets and take me to the game because that’s what a father does. He spent time with me and that is better than any game, or other gift a father can give. Thanks dad. Happy Father’s Day.