I started playing teeball when I was 3 years old. I was barely old enough to talk or walk, but I had a bat in my hand anyways. By the time I was 5, my dad was my coach. Having your father as a coach is one of the greatest experiences a kid can have. I remember all the late practices and extra help I had to give to the leagues I played in since my dad was the softball commissioner as well. There were plenty of early mornings and late nights all dedicated to the sport we both loved. Of course, there's always the awkward moment where you don't know whether to call him coach or dad, but all in all, it's totally worth it.

My dad pushed me harder and made me a better player in the long run. I know there were plenty of walks with my glove dragging the ground from third base all the way to the F.O.P. fence when I missed too many ground balls in a row and I cussed him the whole way. Those walks made me miss less ground balls. It made me appreciate a properly fielded ground ball and made me work harder to field the ball because I knew I didn't want to make that walk to the fence.

I owe my dad the biggest thank you in the world for being an amazing coach, friend, and father. I wouldn't trade any of those late nights or early mornings for anything. Seeing his face when I was rounding first base after an amazing hit is something I'll never forget. His eyes would light up and give me that extra push to run harder. He was there for my first game, my last high school game, and just about every other game in between. I know he'll be there for my last game. Even if he's not on the field with me, he'll be in the stands cheering me on just as loud as he would have been on the field. So here's a thanks to Coach Dad. I love you.