Father's Day

Ever since I can remember, the game of catch intoned my father tossing a ball to me in our East York backyard, such that it was. Then onto the school yard as I could heave 20 feet by age 5 or 6. Straight was another story, but distance I had mastered.

In my early remembrances, my dad would get home from work, clean off the dirty and grime, and sit telling work stories at the dinner table, then unless he had to do inventory on his work truck, I could get a minutes from May to September to play catch. My 2 sisters were totally lost as to why this game of catch was important. Girls ? What do they know about such things. Likely an unfair reaction, but we had not reached that liberated state in the mid 60's, so pardon my chauvinism.

So to my dad, thanks again for being my partner.

And to my son, and daughter, whom I treasure, thanks for letting me be your catching partner, as we continued the traditions handed down. With both kids, they played softball and baseball, and catch was a regular activity either near their school, or at the family cottage in Georgian Bay.

We would take those 2 weeks to vacation there, but the kids never missed any of their games, or weekend practises, as we would take them back down to Mississauga anytime they asked us.

Like the early Sunday hockey, or cool evenings outdoors in May, our butts were within shouting distance at every opportunity.

Thanks kids for allowing me to enjoy your special moments.

As for what is going on this weekend, the big boys enter inter league play again, and I hope all the fans enjoy their moments at the ballpark, with fathers, sons, uncles, and big brothers, and moms who do double duty.