Monday, September 13, 2010

If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be me…

I just finished reading the 1st chapter of the Artie Lange book, “Too Fat to Fish” on my recent step into the wonderful world of the iPad. It’s an easy read so far and the first pages I read are dedicated to his father and how he shaped the person he became. Today is my dad’s birthday, an amazing father, an inspirational man who’s hard work has never gone unnoticed, and cemented in me a desire to never quit. Possibly to my own detriment at times, but has created in me, a man who isn’t afraid of earning through hard work and thick skin. For as long as I can remember, my dad has killed himself to provide his family every opportunity that they could dream. Always working 12-14 hour days, sometimes at multiple places, and then coming home to mow the lawn and do yard work, or fix a basketball hoop my brother and I tore down while screwing around earlier in the day. Or straight from a hard day of building houses turn a quick shower and then rush me off to baseball practice, where he was also a coach. He wasn’t the easiest coach I ever played for, but he was always the fairest and held me to a standard above all others. It was this man who instilled one of the most important life lessons in me during an all star tournament when I was 14 or 15. We were playing a double headed in this tournament, back to back games in the raging 100 degree heat of Southern Idaho summer. We’d just lost 3-1 in a tough heartbreaking battle and no one seemed poised for a second game. I’d had a passed ball behind the plate that led to the go ahead run, and our eventual loss. While everyone was hustling to find shade for the players to cool down in and get us all hydrated, he looked me in the eyes and told me “you know physical mistakes are ok, it’s the mental mistakes that are not acceptable. Shake it off and go win this next one.” I went 3-4 with 2 RBI’s that next game and we won 7-1. It’s a lesson I’ve carried through every aspect of my life since, whether it be on a ball field or in business. It’s the ability to accept that we will make mistakes and we will fall short if we depend on the physical skill.

I’ve known for a long time that it’s my ability to win the mental game when going head to head with any challenge. I was never the tallest, strongest, smartest kid, or adult, but heart is something else my father taught me, or rather, instilled in me. It was his perseverance, his relentless ability to keep going when the cards were down and things looked bleak, to provide for his family. Of course, he never did any of this alone, he had (and still has) the best wing man he could have along his side in my mother. Not to take anything away from her in who I am, but it’s his birthday today, which means I’ll have lots of expanding to do next month on her birthday. It was their partnership that taught all three of their children that family is more important than anything you can buy, anywhere you can travel, any win. Family is the hub that makes life’s successes and failures mean something. No matter what they were going through, they did it together, for the family, for me and my brother and sister. I have watched my father go through loss after loss of friends, jobs, family, NBA championships, and never once did he throw his hands up, despite every reason to say screw it. He’s just not built that way, and either am I. It’s because of him, that I am who I am today. The same passion in life to provide, to take care of, to fix. I am a fixer because my dad is a fixer. We may not be awesome at it all the time, but there’s nothing we wouldn’t do to make everything whole, every time. I think it takes a lot of heart to take the kind of beatings he’s taken, from early childhood, to bullshit bosses and company politics he refused to play a part in. He never waivered his character, he never shied away from responsibility, he never quit being the greatest father I could have been blessed with. I know he made it a goal to be better than his father was, and always wanted his children to be an even better parent than he was. Somehow, in the three years since my son was born, I keep trying to figure out how I could ever exceed that bar that he set for me. I don’t know if it’s possible, but if you ask him today, he’ll tell you I will find a way, because where there’s a will, there’s a way.

When I graduated high school, he gave me a card that I keep close to this day, 15 years later. It was simple, poignant, and again, life changing. I know it’s been seen by many over the years, and I’m not quite sure who the quote came from, but in my eyes, the words are his. “May you have enough success to keep you eager but enough failure to keep you humble.” Anyone that knows the real me, knows that I love without caution, hurt like I’m dying, and live like there’s no tomorrow. Thank you pops, for being the man to me that I will always hope to become. I love you. Happy birthday old man

Stay Blessed-

2 comments:

Byron F. said...

What a great tribute to yer pops! I got a good one too, and its important to let them know how much they're appreciated. Don't forget that yer old man did all the above with a fierce moustache! You could learn another lesson from him, my friend.

Ryan Scott said...

I wish I could rock it Byron, I'm just not blessed with that quick grow facial thing. After a couple days, I just look dirrty ;)