Baseball is a game of tradition, and therefore a game of family.

No one simply picks up baseball out of nowhere. No one learns its subtle nuances, its unwritten rules, and the powerful tradition simply from picking it up from scratch.

No baseball is passed down to us, in the most part, through our fathers.*

We love this game because our fathers loved this game, and their fathers before them. We played this game because our fathers played this game, and their fathers before them.

Our fathers taught us how to squash the bug. How to hate the Yankees. They taught us how to keep score, how to tag up, how to appreciate the wins and respect the losses.

Our fathers made us baseball fans in their image. They have passed along their own imbedded philosophy of the game to us so that we could someday pass on their beliefs to our sons.

Our fathers took us to baseball games to feel like good fathers. Our fathers paid ridiculous amounts for tickets and food to share their boyhood love with us.

Our fathers simply just wanted to have a catch.

Our fathers gave us this gift and kept this game alive, like their fathers before them.

To all the fathers out there I’d like to thank you for all you have done for this great game for baseball, especially mine.

Happy fathers day, dad.

 *Let us also not forget all the great baseball mothers out there, I know plenty.

Comments (2)

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written by Allison, June 21, 2009

And the baseball Grandmothers, cousins, Uncles and friends Happy Fathers day to all those Baseball Dad's out there

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written by barbajo, June 21, 2009

Happy father's day, Bill...

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