To All the Dads, Especially My Own...

I feel like every year I repeat the same things when I talk about my Dad, but I'm fairly sure he never gets tired of hearing it.

From my love of sports, to encouraging me to take New York City by the nuts and forcing it to love me, to occasionally picking up a month's rent when I squeezed too hard on those New York City nuts, my Dad has been the most important person in my life.

If it hadn't been for him, I wouldn't know a thing about batting averages, free throws or the evils of the Yankees. My poor father ended up with four daughters, and I was blessed enough (no seriously!) to draw the 'son' card.

My Dad had a tough job. He taught me to throw a baseball, but also bought me my first prom dress. We'd play one-on-one in the driveway, but he was also always my ride to the mall. He taught me to drive, but also makes baked ziti that would make most hardcore Italian families jealous. He's been a short-order chef, a driver, a basketball coach, a loving ass kicker and most recently, and most important to me, a loving and compassionate friend. He's the first person I want on the other end of the phone line on the best and worst days of my life.

It's funny how I used to shudder when people told me I was exactly like my Dad, but now I'm proud of it. From our off-beat senses of humor to our tempers, to our matching scowels when the Patriots/Red Sox/Celtics are losing, to the "five-head" we both share, there is no question in anyone's mind that I AM my father's daughter.

And I wouldn't have it any other way. Thank you for everything Dad, and I love you so much.

For My Dad...

Sooze beat me to the punch. It is unfortunate that my job requires me to sleep all damn day, otherwise I'd have had this up earlier.

There's nobody more important to me in my life than my Dad. He bought me my first baseball mitt, bat, and set of cleats, and I was hell bent on becoming as good a second baseman as Jody Reed. That same summer, we attended my first Red Sox game. To this day I remember seeing the deep greens of the outfield contrasting against the infield dirt against the shocking shade of blue that you can only find in the skies over Boston. How huge Fenway seemed at the time. I remember being overwhelmed, but my Dad held my hand reassuringly, and we cheered the Olde Towne Team to victory over the Detroit Tigers.

He taught me the evils of the Yankees. Explained to me how I could use my shortness to my advantage in basketball. Told me why Bill Parcells was the greatest NFL coach in history. Taught me the meaning of RBIs and batting averages and why it is important to always practice your free throws. Watching the Red Sox on Friday nights on UPN in the spring, and Celtics games on The Sports Channel in the winter are some of the greatest memories I have as a little kid.

Oh yeah, he was the first person I dialed when the Sox FINALLY won the World Series:)

My Father has done far more for me than just inspire my love of sports. He is the first person I call on the best and worst day of my life. He's not only a parent I can look to for guidance and help when my life gets difficult, but he is also an amazing man and friend who always, ALWAYS has my best interest at heart.

So in closing. Thanks, Dad. I love you.

Dad, What's an ERA?

Everything I have learned about the game of baseball I learned from my dad, Jerry.

One of my earliest childhood memories is of our family sitting in our den watching the 1987 World Series, furiously waving our Homer Hankies and scribbling on our score sheets.

We used to turn down the volume to do the play-by-play ourselves and give the players our own nicknames.

My dad's favorite player? Next to the since-retired Harmon Killebrew, it was Kirby Puckett. So, of course, he became mine.

For my twelfth birthday, he gave me a book - "Kirby Puckett: Be the Best You Can Be." I still cry when I read it.

I often wonder who his favorite player would be today, if he were still alive. Probably Joe Mauer... he had a thing for sweet swings.

He taught me how to fish, throw a mean curve and how to shoot hoops. He bandaged my knees, kissed me goodnight and set me straight when I got into trouble. There's something amazing about a man who can make all seven of his children feel special.

He molded me into the woman I am today and for that, I am grateful.

Happy Father's Day to all you Pops out there.