My First Time...

So as I sat here tonight watching ESPN and a special on George Steinbrenner (and although I hate the Evil Empire, this special truly got at Steinbrenner's love for baseball, and that I can respect), there was no question in my mind what I wanted to write about.  There aren't any sports metaphors or clever jokes (at least I haven't thought of any yet!).  This is simply an opportunity for me to share some memories of the best friend I have ever had...my dad.

There are countless stories from my childhood that are worthy of my Pulitzer Prize winning blog (hey...a guy can dream right?!?!) like our white water rafting trip to West Virginia, or camping with Cub Scouts.  Making home made power tool paint stirrers or me spilling drinks at any sporting event I EVER went to with him until the age of 18.  But the best memories always come back to baseball.  I think it's fair enough to assume that everyone has that one special experience that they share with their best friend, and with my dad and I it's anything baseball.  Playing catch, going to the batting cage, double headers on Easter Sunday at Doak Field...you name it, we did it.  But the absolute BEST memory ever starts like this...



June 20th, 1995...my 12th birthday.  I don't remember much about this day but thats ok because there are only two things you need to know.  First, my dad and I got up and went to breakfast, just like we did every year.  And I can tell you right now that we went to Biscuit Time in Cary.  I got a sausage and cheese biscuit with a Dr Pepper and some hashbrowns and dad got the same except he got his biscuit with mustard and a coffee.  After breakfast, dad went to work and I probably spent the rest of the day playing baseball with Doug Ransdell and Josh Floyd.  That night we ate dinner (probably spaghetti or bbq porkchops) and birthday cake (most definitely yellow cake with chocolate icing) then I got to open some presents.  I only remember one present from that birthday...tickets to my first Atlanta Braves game (I am pretty confident that the excitement and smile on my face could have ended any civil war if given the opportunity).  July 18th couldn't come fast enough.  I remember we loaded up dad's red Ford Ranger and headed down I85 bound for Fulton County Stadium.  There are so many random things I remember from our trip...the Radison Hotel was the nicest place I had ever stayed, eating at the Hard Rock Cafe AND Planet Hollywood, the Coca-Cola Museum, the CNN Center, and the Underground.  Dad probably spent alot more money than he should have that trip (our money tree had died in the drought of '92) but to him money wasn't an issue.  This was about a right of passage every boy and his dad need to take...I remember like it was yesterday (and I am actually getting chills right now writing about it) when we walked through the tunnel for the first time and I saw the most beautiful grass in my life.  The smell of a ballpark is something nobody can recreate.  Of course like any other respectable fan, we were there as soon as the stadium opened to watch batting practice and get autographs.  After batting practice we scouted out our seats and then I went exploring the stadium.  I remember walking to the top of Fulton County Stadium and looking out at Turner Field being built for the 1996 Summer Olympics and thinking "why are they going to tear down this perfectly good baseball stadium?!?!".  

  

I got three autographs that day, Pedro Borbon, Mark Lemke, and Luis Polonia.  And as John Smoltz was coming in from the bullpen he tossed a ball in the stands about 5 feet from me that I missed grabbing by a half step.  Dad and I got our standard hotdog, soda, and peanuts combo (cold adult beverage for dad of course) and we headed to our seats on the first base side just under the second level awning.  The Braves went up early but eventually lost in 10 innings.  I didn't care though because nothing could ruin the excitement of my first Major League ball game.  The next day the braves got the win behind a strong performance from Greg Maddux and before I knew it we were on our way back to North Carolina.  That trip was absolutely the best memory I have of me and my dad.

Fast forward a few years to 2007.  It was my turn to try and repay my dad for the most incredible baseball trip of my life.  Father's Day comes around and through my connections working with the Durham Bulls and USA Baseball, I was able to score some home plate tickets and 744 Club passes for my dad and I to the Braves and Cardinals game on July 21st.  The Braves won 14-6 behind Willie Harris's 6 for 6, 6 RBI day but none of that mattered.  This was the first time I felt like I was able to do anything that resembled a worthy "thank you".  I know he never wanted or needed a thank you, to him...going to a ball game with his boy was enough but I had to try.  Those two baseball games in 1995 were the best two games I have ever been too.  Not because I witnessed a no-hitter, a 3,000th hit, or a 300th win but because I got to spend my first big league ball game with my dad...

Thanks Dad...

Dunlap's Corner

So if you haven't sold your soul to the devil and you actually root for the good guys, you know exactly what the title of this post refers to.  It was September 23, 2006 a normal college football Thursday in the great city of Raleigh at the Mecca of college football in the ACC...Carter Finley Stadium (alright alright...give me a break).   Well to make a long story short, NC State was down 15-10 with less than a minute to go.  With sophomore Daniel Evans leading the calvary, the Wolfpack marched down the field and with :08 left, Evans connected with John Dunlap for 33 yards and the TD in the corner of the endzone for the winning score.  At that moment, NOTHING else mattered, not how I was getting home, not the three random guys I awkwardly hugged after the score, and definitely not the test I had the next day (i wasn't going anyways and honestly that had nothing to do with the aduly beverages that were consumed tailgating before the game).  All 50,000+ Wolfpack fans had the exact same feeling...complete euphoria!  That kind of feeling only comes around when someting special happens and you never foget it.

Fast forward 3 years 350 days to September 8, 2010.  I got that same feeling today.  But not from a football game but from seeing a smiling little face who has no idea what he does for the others around him.  I spent all summer with this little boy from El Salvador and was always excited to see him but nothing like today.  Today was like Christmas morning (specifically Christmas morning 1991 when I got my Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Pizza Van...so you know it was a big deal).  You know it's coming and you can hardly stand it.  All day I was waiting until 4:10pm for the bus to show up but of course it was late.  And then it happened...his sister and cousins got off of the bus first but he was nowhere to be found (and that's not the most comforting thing to see considering his english is mediocre at best and this child doubles as Tarzan in his free time...).  And then out from behind a group of kids jumped "Tarzan".  From about 20 yards away here he came in a dead sprint (cue Chariots of Fire music in slow motion) screaming Hola! Hola!  I barely had enough time to clear a path for him before he jumped up and gave me the biggest hug I have had in a long time.  It was Dunlap's Corner all over again.  That feeling of excitement that only comes around when something special happens.  So my journey with "Tarzan" started over again today and it promises to be an adventure all year.  My only hope is that I can impact him half as much as he has already impacted me. 

Never forget your "Christmas mornings" or "Dunlap's Corners"...keep those feelings with you all the time and remember  "the best things come in small packages!"