Father's Day

My 12th day as a father came and went Sunday with little fanfare really. Wait, that's not right...my 12th Father's Day I should say.

That still doesn't necessarily sound correct but let's move on.

What is Father's Day really? I mean, c'mon guys, moms do all the work. There's a reason why Mother's Day comes first, and why it comes at a time of year when you can actually enjoy some outdoor activity. The temperature here in the 'Ville on Sunday reached triple digits. Who's gonna get out and fire up the grill in that furnace?

Yours truly upset his wife early Sunday morning by getting up early. Yes, I got up and couldn't go back to sleep and decided to rise for some early coffee by my standards. I entered the kitchen to the smell of eggs, bacon and biscuits, and was promptly greeted with something akin to diaper rash.

"What are you doing up? You're not supposed to be up," is how the love of my life greeted me from a night of unrestful slumber.

I briefly wondered if I'd missed something on the calendar, because I just knew the one I was living by said this was supposed to be FATHER'S DAY. A simple "good morning" would have been better appreciated.

Turns out I had walked in on my surprise. I was to have been served breakfast in bed. We settled for breakfast on the patio, because I wasn't going back to bed.

My kids gave me their respective cards, all hand-written and created personally. Coby signed his simply with "Your Only Son," overstating the obvious. Melody was quite respectful and creative with hers as well, as she always is. My oldest daughter is most like her dad in that respect.

Little Abby wasn't quite sure what was going on that was any different than the previous morning. But she gave me a card nonetheless, and it contained her own little scribble, literally. I'm talking crayon on construction paper, but it's as good as gold for me.

Jeannie, who'd gotten up at the crack of dawn to prepare my Father's Day feast, also gave me a card. I'll not tell you what it said; some things just need to remain secret.

Coby was finishing up a baseball tournament across town that afternoon but I had already made the decision to attend church and trust we'd make it to the game on time. It all worked out and it was good to worship the Lord; I'd missed the last two Sundays and was needing a good dose of reality.

We high-tailed it home and made it to the game 45 minutes early. The temperature at that point was only about 120 degrees or so, but the boys came through with a solid 4-0 victory. We had about three hours off, so a couple of us visited the local McAlister's for a snack and some sweet tea before I zipped back to the 'Ville to pick up the girls, who'd decided to sit out the first game and hope there would be a second.

Went back to the ballpark to watch Coby pitch a nice ballgame against a pretty good team from Carthage. "My Only Son" left after four innings of work with a 4-2 lead, having thrown 75 pitches on a sweltering day. Thirty-seven of those had come in the top of the fourth when he pitched out of jam and left the bases loaded after allowing just one run. We went on to win 5-2 and advanced to the championship.

We then faced the Texas Thunder in the championship game as the sun began to set, and the temperature fell into a somewhat comfortable 80-degree range. There's really nothing like watching the sun set at the ballpark, no matter what ballpark it is, after a long day of baseball.

The Thunder was playing its fourth game of the day and brought some big momentum in the game, jumping out on us 2-0 in the first inning. We answered with two of our own and took a 3-2 lead an inning later, only to have them tie it up and 3-3. It stayed that way till the fifth, when they scratched a couple of runs to take a 5-3 lead.

We picked up a run in the bottom of the fifth to make it 5-4, and figured Coby could use some more work. He was going to be on a strict pitch count this time, having thrown earlier in the day, but as it turned out it wasn't needed. He threw 13 pitches in the sixth inning and we picked up the tying run in the bottom half to send it to extra innings. "My Only Son" pitched the seventh inning and took only seven pitches to get out of it, and we won it in the bottom half with a bases-loaded single.

Got home a little after 11 p.m. That was Father's Day for me. I don't have a whole lot of money and I'm not the greatest dad in the world by far. But I got a heck of a family whose company I adore, and spending the time with them is the ultimate gift for me.

Championships only add to the enjoyment.