My Greatest Sports Moment – A Daddy Diary

November 28, 2011 By 10 Comments

My 7-year old daughter (a smooth defensive infielder) approached the gates of Busch Stadium on October 27th and said to me, “Daddy, this feels different than the last Cardinal game we went to…There are a lot more people.  I mean, a lot more people. And, they just seem to be acting differently.  Why is that?”  I responded with pride, “Delaney, welcome to the World Series, the greatest sporting event there is, and our Cardinals are playing in it.”

We handed our Game 6 tickets to the Ticket Taker, and that’s where this story takes an evil turn.  Our tickets did not scan.  We were escorted to a member of the Stadium’s Management Team (not Tony Larussa), then asked to pay a visit to the Ticket Office.  We were informed that our tickets were counterfeit, and we were out of luck.  Within minutes, my daughter and I went from sitting in the bleachers inside Busch to sitting on a curb outside Busch.

We sat there for a few minutes without saying a word when finally my little girl gazed up at me with her sweet, innocent face which was buried underneath her RED winter stocking cap snuggled under 4 layers of RED shirts and sweatshirts, and says “Daddy, I don’t understand what just happened.  Why won’t they let us inside to watch the game?”  I admit it.  My eyes began to water and not because of the 25mph blustery wind hitting us with a 40 degree wind chill.  This was among the saddest moments of my life.

I explained to her that earlier in the day Daddy had purchased 2 tickets from a man who said he could not attend that night’s game due to a family conflict thanks to the previous night’s rainout.  Game 6 was supposed to be played the night before, but it was postponed due to rain.  He had a good story.  I bought it, and I bought what I thought to be 2 bleacher tickets to Game 6 of the World Series.  He got me.  In looking back, I can see the red flags now.  But, I admit that I was seeing RED that entire day, and wasn’t even thinking this was a possibility.  Yes, I’m naïve.  And, yes, I’ll never get on Craig’s List again.  I  know, I know, I’m an idiot for even thinking this was an option, but for a non season ticket holder that was struggling to swallow the Stub Hub prices, and lost out on the team’s auction for tickets, Craig’s List seemed to be my only option.  I know, I flubbed it. Error Daddy.

So, there we sat on the sidewalk for over an hour.  Delaney then turned to me and said “Daddy, let’s go get some dinner.”  So, we went over to Friday’s Restaurant which had cleared out as those with “real” tickets walked over to the game.  We watched the first couple of innings while eating a burger, fries, and a strawberry RED slushee (Delaney’s choice).  She said “Daddy, let’s walk back over to the Stadium.”  “Really?, I questioned”  “Yes, Daddy, I want to hear what it sounds like when that many people all get excited at the same time.  I want to hear what a World Series sounds like.”  Oh, yah, sure, I had dry eyes, and I can also hit a 99mph Fastball.  Not so much.

If the “seller” had walked past me at that point in time, I would have gone all Mike Tyson on him (not the Mike Tyson that played for the Cardinals in the 70s either).  I’m not tough.  I can also admit that.  But, you Dads know what I’m talking about.  This thief stole an experience from my little girl, and well, you don’t have to have biceps the size of Albert Pujols to knock someone out of the park.

My little “Red” bird and I walked around the Stadium for a couple of innings, just taking in the World Series atmosphere.  I tried to haggle with a couple of scalpers knowing the entire time that I just couldn’t bring myself to risk another counterfeit experience and spend more money on this game.  Besides, what if “we” lost?  Ugh.  I couldn’t go there either.  So, after the 4th Inning, I looked at a tired little girl and said “Honey, how bout we go home and watch the rest of the game with Mom and your brother?  I’m so sorry that we’re not inside watching this game.  I’m truly very sorry.”  She looked at me and said “Daddy, this was the best game that I’ve ever been to.  It’s the World Series, and I’m with you.”  Yep, call your Water Utility Company because I had enough H2O streaming down my cheeks to take care of your entire town.

So, she bounced into my arms, threw her arms around my neck squeezing me tighter than a runner from 3rd sprinting home on a sac bunt attempt (baseball reference), then I flung her onto my shoulders and I skipped all the way back to my car with my little girl singing “Take me out to the Ballgame” and of course, “Never say Never” by Justin Beiber.

We buckled into our seats in the Top of the 5th.  She was asleep 1 out later.  When we arrived at our home, it was the 6th.  I picked her up, put her on the couch, and rubbed her head while she slept on my lap all the way until the Bottom of the 9th when 2 men were on, and 2 were out with 2 strikes on Cardinal batter David Freese.  You all know what happened in the game from that point on, but I will say this, she never even made a peep.  She was safe and sound at home, and that was good enough for her.  Thanks to the Home Town Kid, David Freese, the Cardinals, miraculously, won that game after being 1 strike away from elimination not once, but twice, and the 3rd baseman was the hero both times.

That game will go down as the greatest Baseball game in St Louis Cardinal History, and I’ll never forget it as my Greatest Sports Moment.  I owe it all to an infielder whose first name starts with the letter “D” …. Delaney Smith, my little girl.

Sincerely,

Delaney’s Daddy

November 27th, 2011

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“When I was your age….” A Daddy Diary

January 18, 2011 By 1 Comment

Gen 'X' and Gen 'Techs' at play

Are you kidding me?  I actually used this phrase this week when speaking to my 6-year old daughter.  For the first time in my life, I think that I feel “old.”  The following conversation took place last Saturday at a local movie theater prior to the trailers beginning…

“Hey Daddy, when can I have my own cell phone?” says the 6-year old while playing “Angry Birds” with her iTouch in one hand,

and eating popcorn with the other.

It’s really my iTouch, but I don’t have much use for it, so I’ve allowed my kiddos to mess around with it.  Lesson:  We have an iTunes account with our Mac and iTouch connected to a credit card.  Many apps cost a few George Washington’s and well, our kids have figured out how to download.  I learned this by looking at my last credit card statement.  My kids are 4 and 6!!!  And, so it begins.  Generation T-ech lives in my house.

Gen X Representative aka Daddy:  “You can have your own cell phone when you start High School, so when you’re 14,” replies the sage.

Generation Techs 1 aka Daughter: “Come on Dad, that’s a long time.  How old were you when you were able to have your own cell phone?” She turns off the iTouch.  This must be a serious conversation.

“26” is my answer.

Gen Techs 1:  “What?  Did Grandma and Grandpa not like you?”

Generation Techs 2 aka Son:  “Wow, Daddy, that’s old.”  He’s piling on.

Gen X:  “Okay, you two, listen closely.  Grandma and Grandpa loved me.  Well, they loved me most of the time”

Gen Techs 1:“Not when you spilled spaghetti on the white carpet.  Not when you played the drums on Grandma’s new furniture with a hair brush.  Not when you stuck tomatoes in your pockets, so you didn’t have to eat them at dinner.”

Gen X: “Okay, okay, wait a minute.  Who told you about all of that?”

Gen Techs 1“Grandma”

Gen X (thinks to himself, Darn Baby Boomers): “I’ll discuss that with her later.  Here’s my point.  When I was your age…”  (Ding, Ding, Ding, I just said it for the first time.  Whatever follows this phrase is going to age me.  I’ve never really felt old.  I’m 35.  I’m fine with being 35.  I’m not 65 and I’m not 5, I’m right in the middle and that’s cool with me, but now I’m getting grilled by 2 kids who are darn close to 5, and they have me on the run.)  “When I was your age, nobody had a cell phone.”

Gen Techs 1: “Well, then how did you talk to people?”

Gen X: “There was a phone on the wall?”

Gen Techs 1:  “Why would there be a phone the wall?  Why didn’t you wear it on your belt?  How would you feel it buzz?  Was there a screen to read the text messages?  We don’t understand.”

This is incredible.

Gen X: “There were no text messages.  The phone rings, I answer, and talk to the person calling me.”

Gen Techs 1: “Daddy, you’re telling me that you actually spoke into a phone that was hanging on a wall.  Daddy, you’re so silly.  You’re fibbing to us.  Did your head set come out of the wall?  Well, I guess you could have had a blue tooth, so that part might make sense.  What did it sound like when someone was calling you?”

Gen X: “It just rang”

Gen Techs 1:“It didn’t play a Miley Cyrus or Black Eyed Peas song?  That’s what Mommy’s phone does, and yours buzzes, so I don’t understand what “it just rang” means.”

This conversation is not happening.  I feel like Marty McFly in Back to the Future 2.

Gen X: “Yes, it just rang, almost like the doorbell I guess.  There was no music or buzzing.”

Gen Techs 1: “What?  There wasn’t any music when you were a kid?  You weren’t able to listen to Radio Disney on XM?”

Gen X: “Of course, there was music, although no XM, but there wasn’t any music that came from the phone.”

Gen Techs 1: “Okay, so there was music.  Whew, I thought you were going to tell us that you didn’t have an ipod?  Now, that would have been crazy.”

Keep in mind.  She’s 6, and this conversation really did happen.

Gen X: “Okay, Delaney and Cooper, this could go on forever, the movie is getting ready to start, so let’s watch okay?”

Gen Techs 2 (the son is rising): “Daddy, can you pass me the 3D glasses?  The screen is so far away.  It hurts my eyes.”

Gen X:  “Cooper, when I was your age…  Forget it.  Here are the glasses.”

Sincerely,

Old Man Daddy

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“Fall Back” Asleep

November 7, 2010 By 6 Comments

I remember when I was in college or really any time prior to having children that I loved the weekend when we could turn back our clocks and get that extra hour of weekend.  Whether it was an another 60minutes of zzz’s or another round at the local pub, it was a little bit of fun prior to the onset of winter for those of us north of the Mason-Dixon line.

Let me refer you back to the first line of this Daddy Diary that says “prior to having children.”  Here’s what I did with my extra hour of “fun” this year.

5:07 am – I’m startled by 2 sets of eyes staring at me at my bedside.  “Daddy, we’re not tired” says the 4year old ghost.  My response, “go away.”

Shockingly, the ghost and his 6year old sister actually do go away.

5:11 am – They’ve returned.  “Daddy, we did go away, but we’re back.  Can I read Cooper a book?” says the 6 year old boomerang that has a knack of always returning to my bedside.”  My response this time, “yes, that’s a terrific idea Delaney, how bout reading him ‘Gone with the Wind.’”  She appears confused, but then again, my eyes are still not open and it’s 5:11 am on a Sunday!!!!

5:16 am – “Daddy, we’re done reading,” says the speed reading princess. “What? That book is over a thousand pages long.  How did you finish so quickly?” says the sleep deprived king.  “Well, Daddy, I’m in advanced reading and learning a lot,” says the now gloating princess.  “Danielle, pull her out of school on Monday,” says the once proud, now very groggy king to his “still asleep” queen.

5:19 am – Dog is barking uncontrollably while chasing his tail.  He’s doing this exactly 15 inches from the father’s pillow.  Pillow now goes over the father’s face.

5:21 am – 2 minutes later, dog is still barking.  The dad leaps out of bed and chases the 7 pound dog out of his room.  Door slams shut.  He crawls back into bed.

5:28 am – Door re-opens.  “Dad, we’re hungry,” says the 40 pound 4-year old.  “May we please have some breakfast?”  “I will get you breakfast at 7am.  When your clock says 7-0-0, I will make you breakfast,” says Chef Smith.  The good chef closes his eyes.

5:30 am – “Daddy, our clock is not working.  The battery is dead.  Can you change the battery?” says the soon to be fatherless son.  “Forget the clock for now.  Go play, and I’ll come and get you for breakfast.  I’ll make you whatever you want at 7-0-0.  Deal?  Deal!” says Monty Hall (former host of the game show “Let’s Make a Deal.”).  The 2 contestants leave the parents bedroom and actually go play together.

5:35 am – The father is drifting, drifting, drifting and then

Bark! Bark!  Bark!

The dog snuck back into the room when the daughter and son re-appeared during that last round of Let’s Make a Deal.  The never-to-be-confused with the President of PETA falls out of bed, crawls to the door and opens it to let the dog out of his room.

5:44 am – All is quiet.  REM begins again, when all of a sudden “Daddy (in a whisper), Daddy (growing louder), Daddy (at a voice volume used at 1pm)!!! “What?  What happened?  Is everyone alright?  Are you hurt?” says our superhero.  Laughing now, “Well, no Daddy, I’m not hurt.  I cannot find one of my soccer socks, and I have a game today,” says our soccer star.  “Your game is not for another 7 hours.  We have plenty of time to find the sock” says the soccer star’s father.  “But, Daddy, you said that I need to be ready for this game, that this is a big game.”  “Did I say that?  Well, sure it’s a big game, but getting dressed for a 115pm game at 540 in the morning might be a tad extreme.  Go practice your ball skills downstairs,” says Coach Dad.

5:56 am – 12 minutes of peace.  It’s the greatest 12 minutes since the 4th quarter of the NBA Finals Game 7 last summer; but then the yell.  “Daddddddddy!”  Bedroom door flies open.  The little man is in the room, “Dadddddddy, I beat Delaney at Candyland” says the braggart. What?  There’s that game again (see prior Daddy Diary).  And, how did they finish it so quickly (again, see prior Daddy Diary for full explanation)?  “Cooper, that’s great, but can you please let me rest just a little big longer?” pleads the insomniac.  “Well, sure Dad, no problem,” replies the sleep depriver.

6:07 – The princess re-visits the castle.  “Daddy, we’re not tired, we’re hungry, I’m excited for my game, and I really need to find my sock.”

I cannot wait till March when I’m gonna give that hour right back to them.  It’s on!!!!

Sincerely,

Daddzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

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A Rainy Day, CandyLand and Lessons in being a Poor Sport

October 4, 2010 By 2 Comments

Okay, I admit it.  I cheated playing Candyland with my then 3-year old son and 5-year old daughter.  I committed this crime one year ago, and I’ve been called out for being a “poor sport” for the past 12 months, so here I am coming clean.

But, I ask all of you dads, “what would you have done if put in this same situation?”  Read the following set of circumstances and you tell me…

It’s a rainy first Sunday in October.  My wife and I “hit the town” the previous night for a fun-filled October fest with a few friends.  Now, I’ve learned my lesson to stop at 2 bottles of wine.  I’m joking.  Relax.  I’ve learned my lesson to stop at 2 “glasses” of wine.  So, Charlie Jack Hammer is not drilling his way into my cerebellum, but hey, we got home late, and Cooper decided that his normal 5:30 am wake up call was in play for the 73rd consecutive Sunday.  This kid just doesn’t like to sleep on the weekend.  It’s the first Sunday in October, so we have the last day of the baseball season (see Tigers-Twins excitement for those of you that recall).  We have NFL Football of course.  Normally, I’m a casual fan.  After the 9th straight game of Candyland, I’m John Madden on Cotton Candy.  Boom!

So, here we are sitting at the kitchen table at 2:30pm.  I’ve been awake now for 9 hours.  My only break was the 60 minutes asking God why he has forsaken me in this, my hour of need.  I’m trying to be a good Dad and keep the TV off and do some Smith Team Building excercises like the dishes, reading books, cleaning out kid’s closets, and now playing board games:  first 4 games of Memory and now we’re onto our 10th game of Candyland. This is where it all went down.

Delaney has won 5 games.  Coop has won 4.  I say “hey guys, let’s do something else.”  They respond with “Daddy, you haven’t won yet.”  Yeah, well, every time I get past the Ice Cream Cone, I draw a damn Gingerbread man again.  That guy is a jerk.  And, I’m back near the starting line again.  I’m glad the fox ate the gingerbread man.  He deserved it with his wry smile and open arms as if it say “here I am, pick me again Mr. Smith, you moron.”  Sorry.  I’m having flashbacks.

So, picture this.  I’m between the Lollipop and the Ice Cream Cone again.  I know that the jerk (see Gingerbread man) still hasn’t been drawn yet.  I also know that I’ll never play Candyland again if I can just win one game.  Delaney is a double purple behind me.  Cooper just drew the Candy Cane.  Goody-Goody Gum Drops, I have my opening.  I need a Double Blue, Double Green, and a Double Red.  I do all of that and I’ll be watching Game 162 of the baseball season.  So, I draw, and I’ll be damned, that sweet little bastard is staring at me again.  Nope, not happening.  I drop all of the cards on the floor.  Delaney screams out “Daddy, what happened?”  I respond with “I don’t know, my hand just started shaking.  Are we having an earthquake?”  Cooper chimes in with “Sure, I’ll take a milkshake.”  No, I said “earthquake.”  And, we all proceed to clean them up.  Kids under the table, me in my chair, orderly putting the cards back in the pile with every 3rd card being a Double Blue, Double Green and Double Red.  Huh, funny how that worked out.

So, a few minutes later, I win. Game Over.  And, finally, I get them each some milk, so we all can take a little Sunday nap.  As the three of us fall into the couch, Delaney looks at me says “Daddy, I think you cheated.”  What??? “I think you dropped those cards on purpose.”  And what gives you that idea Delaney?  “Well, we went through the entire deck of cards, and no one picked the Gingerbread man.  It seems that you always pick it, and that’s “shady;” Her word, not mine, by the way.

So, call me Shady.  Call me a Gingerbread Man Hater.  But, I swore that table started to shake on that 1st Sunday in October in 2009, and for that I’m not sorry.  There.  It’s out there now.  Whew, I feel better.

As a present to myself, I think I’ll go pour myself a tall glass of milk, eat a few sugary little men with candy buttons and outstretched arms then finish this little nightcap off with a nice smile.

I guess you could call me a “Poor Sport.”

-Daddy

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The Choice

May 24, 2010 By 16 Comments

Dear Daddy Diary-

Today, May 23rd, 2010 was the toughest day of my life since July 10, 2004.

I made a career decision today that I’m not sure was the right one. Do we ever know? I’m a mental wreck. My mind has gone back and forth so much in the last 24hrs that I feel like a politician. I flipped a coin 15 times. I flipped my 3-yr old son! Luckily, he landed on tails. I chose the safe, conservative route. I took the job that I was supposed to take. Yet, still something is missing.

I used to be the guy that would be a risk taker, with a “bring it” kind of attitude. I never did it for the money. I never did what I was “supposed to do.” I was a sportscaster for goodness sakes. I made no cash, lived in small towns, and rode a bus from town to town calling Minor League Hockey Games. I did things to be the wild card. Now, I play things close to the vest. I’m holding on too tight. I need to turn in my wings. I feel like Cougar in “Top Gun.” And you want to know why? Because of the happenings on July 10th, 2004.

That was the night that I became a daddy, and almost became a widow. My first was born, beautiful, healthy, and I was on top of the world. At the same time, my first and only love was fighting for her life. Delaney, the scrapper that she is, caused some serious internal problems for the toughest woman on the planet aka her mommy aka Extraordinary Mommy. One minute we’re celebrating our first little miracle. The next minute I’m praying for a miracle that my wife will come back from emergency surgery with enough blood inside of her to see her little girl.

delaney-week-1-068Lucky for me, this story has a happy ending. The doctors were able to finally stop the bleeding, and my beautiful bride made a full recovery after many weeks of rest.

So, that brings me to today. Each time that I’m confronted with another major life decision, I think back to 7/10/04. I thank my lucky stars for the conclusion to that highly stressful day, and think what I need to do in order to take advantage of that day each and every day thereafter. Yes, I put way too much pressure on myself. That’s my biggest problem. I’m trying to live the rest of my life as a “thank you note” for the present that I was given on that wonderful Saturday, 6 years ago.

daddydiaryfeatured

There’s a lesson here, and I’m still trying to learn it, but I do know this, I love my wife, I love my daughter, and I love my son more than any love that I know that I ever had, so for that, I’m thankful. And, since they’re all healthy and tucked into bed, then that makes today, May 23rd, 2010 one of the best days of my life since July 10th, 2004.

PS…Sorry to be so serious with this Daddy Diary. The witty, funny ones will return next time around. As my 3yeard old says “I had a hard day.”

-Daddy

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A Christmas gift for Daddy

January 6, 2010 By 2 Comments

It’s Christmas Eve. We just returned from a Christmas Mass-Christmas Dinner combo. I melt into the couch completely stuffed from eating everyone’s food. I’m conversing with my father-in-law when out of the corner of my eye I spot a shadow near the fireplace.

img_2844He’s short, about 3 feet tall, dressed in a red sweater with a sweet little smile. He has something in his hand. Is this an elf bringing me a Christmas present just a few hours too early?

“Daddy, do you want one of your daddy drinks,” asks the 3yr old elf that looks a lot like my son Cooper.

Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy. I’ve heard about this day from some of my buddies who have older sons. I never thought it was real though. I thought it was only one of those dreams that dad’s tweet about in their sleep. Christmas is a time of magic though; maybe the story is a non-fiction.

My wonderful son stands in front of me holding a cold, frosty, bottle of all American (well, it used to be All-American, now it’s half American, half Belgian) Beer.

Okay, crazy anti-beer zealots, I drink maybe 2 beers a week, so let’s not get carried away that I’m one of these beer guzzling, couch potatoes that ferments himself in between the cushions. I just like a nice sip of an adult beverage once or twice a weekend, so relax.

Now, let’s get back to the Christmas miracle.

I look up from my seated position and see a halo around Cooper’s head or maybe that’s the glow from the TV, but either way, he’s an angel in my eyes, always has been, always will be.

I grab Cooper, and give him a big bear hug. I tell him how thankful that I am for him thinking of me on this Christmas Eve. He has really grasped the concept of giving during this holiday season. He then shakes my hand (yes, he shook my hand), and says “Anytime, Daddy.” A single tear runs down my cheek. I grab the bottle, take a drink, and puff my chest out. That’s my son!

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night “cap”.

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Holiday Shopping at Hooters (this post was written by a dude)

December 19, 2009 By 1 Comment

Happy Holidays to all of you Dads out there. This Daddy Diary is strictly for you. Moms who continue to read, you have been warned.

img_2810My 3-yr old son, Cooper and I, are off to find a gift for PaPa (Cooper’s Grandpa, My Dad).

PaPa’s perfect night is a couple of cold ones while watching a baseball game and a plate full of chicken wings in front of him. Every male reader knows where we’re going to get his gift.

Hooters!!!

And, this is where the Daddy Diary begins.

Cooper and I enter through the double doors. The Neon Orange blinds us. We both trip right into the hostess stand. (That move never worked in college). Cooper looks up with his big, blue eyes “Hi, my name is Cooper, we need a present for my Papa.” Wow, he’s smooth. I really could have used him back in the day. I’m so proud of him.

“Well, sure, Cooper, would you like a gift card, so your Papa can come here whenever he wants?” She’s smooth too. What a great salesperson. “Yes, please, he told me that his favorite restaurant is Hooters.” This is great stuff. Cooper is in charge of the conversation, making good eye contact, and accomplishing our goal. I stand back and admire.

“You’re very pretty,” says Cooper. “Well, thank you,” replies the Hostess, “you’re handsome too. Will you be my boyfriend?” Really? It’s that easy when you’re 3? “No thank you, my mommy is my girlfriend. She’s the prettiest girl in the whole wide world.” Yep, that was the old 32-A move, “Play hard to get.” Women have perfected that move over the years. “Oh well, your mommy is a lucky lady, Mister Cooper” says the Hostess in a fit of jealousy, but never once looking at me. My ego is hit, but I’m the “wing” (shameless pun) man here, I know my role.

Then, Cooper goes in for the close. “Do you like baseball? It’s my favorite. I love playing baseball with my Daddy.” Yep, here we go, I’m finally introduced to the conversation. “I like baseball too,” says Cooper’s new friend, “Here’s your gift certificate for your Papa. You come back and see me, okay?” Cooper’s first trip to Hooters and he lands the 2nd date. Amazing! “Okay,” says Cooper, “Merry Christmas.” He grabs the gift certificate himself, takes my hand, and we exit the Owl’s nest.

Atta boy Coop, you accomplished something that most of us Dads cannot ever dream of doing. You bought a Christmas present with one whole week to spare.

Happy Holidays!

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