06/03/2026
"The final out isn't the end of baseball. It's the end of a thousand car rides, backyard catches, postgame talks, and moments I'll carry for the rest of my life."
This picture was taken in Montgomery, Alabama in April of 2019. It was shortly after the last out of his last game. It reflects the end of a ride that took us from Chickamauga, GA to Cooperstown, NY to Ft. Myers, FL to San Diego, CA and to hundreds of stops in between.
During all that time, I got to coach him in high school for 3 years and once when he was 8 when our coach quit and I reluctantly had to step in to help.
I said that to say to say this: even though I'm still seen as a coach and was a coach most of his childhood, most of the time when I got to watch my son play, I was just his dad.
In a lot of ways, my love of baseball saved my life. Now, I don't mean that I would have died without it. That's silly. No, baseball gave me a goal. A direction. It paid for my college education. It paid for my mortgage and put food on the table for my family. Simply put, I will always love and owe the game.
When Tyler came along, he fell in love with baseball too. Obviously, I was thrilled and loved every second of watching him play. Was it perfect? No. Did he get mad at me? A bunch. Did it define our relationship? No.
Baseball was just another magnet that kept us together. In today's world, dads and their children need those magnets.
The reason I post so much about baseball and the relationship between fathers and their sons is that I see dads, even well-meaning dads, behaving in such a way that baseball is going to hurt their relationship with their son.
Expectations are too high.
Acceptance and praise only comes with good performance.
Verbal and, occasionally, physical abuse happens after a bad play or game.
This is wrong.
Remember Kevin Costner's character in "Draft Day"? He was the GM of the Cleveland Browns and traded three years of draft picks to get the #1 overall spot and then took a guy no one expected him to take. Several times in the movie, it showed him writing and then carrying around a post it note. But it never showed what it said until after he made that pick and all of the hand-wringing and protests that went with it.
The note said, "Vonte Mack, no matter what."
He was reminding himself that through all the noise of the day, he saw something in Mack that he wanted. He didn't let anyone or anything change his mind.
So maybe dads should carry around a post-it note reminding them that that ball player is his son.
And NOTHING is more important that that.
NO MATTER WHAT.