Dear Dad,
Raising three stubborn daughters was definitely not always easy for you; we can definitely be a handful at times. I guess that’s why I really appreciate all the Saturday nights we spend watching football, me asking a ridiculous amount of questions, and you answering all of them without getting annoyed once. Thanks for teaching me to love all sports, not just the big ones. Even though the Little League World Series isn’t the most exciting tournament, you’ve taught me to appreciate all sports, no matter the level. You appreciate anyone that has devoted their lives to athletics, whether it be a track star or a cross-country skier, because they’ve all put the effort into being the best the can be, and that’s something you’ve always encouraged me to do.
Coming from a family of hardcore USC fans, I used to ask why you cared about watching games that the Trojans weren’t playing in. You always said that it doesn’t matter who’s playing, the fun is in watching the game. By saying that, you taught me to appreciate everything, no matter if it’s relevant to me or not. You’ve taught me to root for the underdog, and to appreciate a good play when I see one, no matter which team it’s in favor of.
I still remember all those Saturday afternoons that you’d take me to the baseball field and try to teach me to throw and catch. After learning I have zero hand-eye coordination, you didn’t get frustrated; you just told me that ball sports probably weren’t my thing. When I joined the cross-country team, you came to every meet. You probably ran more than I did, trying to find the perfect spot on the course to cheer everyone on. I would complain that cross-country was a dumb sport, that no one ever watched the meets, and that I should have just played soccer like everyone else. You made it clear that it didn’t matter what sport I played, as long as I was giving it my all. I really appreciate that, firstly because I suck at soccer, but also because it encouraged me to do what I wanted, not just what everyone else was doing.
So thank you, Dad, for never letting me give up, even when my lungs were on fire and I felt like I was going to vomit. Thank you for teaching me everything there is to know about football, but also thank you for encouraging me to be a fan myself, and clarifying that just because I can’t name all the stats about my favorite team, or still don’t understand why baseball has to play three games instead of one, doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it as much as anyone else.
Love,Your slightly uncoordinated daughter
