The sun and the moon are two distinct celestial objects one no more exciting than the other. That is until the moon decides to shimmy its way between the Earth and our closest star creating what we know as a solar eclipse. These two unique and special objects are constant yet when aligned become something rare and newsworthy.
In the wide world of sports there exists a slightly different kind of son and when partnered with the old man in the moon it generates a product equally as unparalleled— the father-son dynamic duo.
Kids all across America grow up idolizing their favorite sports heroes. From Michael Jordan to Wayne Gretzky to Jerry Rice we all have our favorites. But on the rarest of occasions those shooting stars we have plastered across our walls and bedroom doors may in fact be our own fathers.
This was the case for baseball legends Ken Griffey Jr. and Ken Griffey Sr. It was the same for hall-of-fame hockey greats Bobby and Brett Hull. Even Gary Hall Jr. had two-time Olympic silver medalist swimmer Gary Hall Sr.
These are mentors and built-in relationships you simply cannot buy. They provide motivation unlike anyone else. They sacrifice and give us the tools to succeed beyond your wildest imagination. Having a father’s footsteps to follow steps that led to fame and fortune can be intimidating but pay big dividends in the future. Father-son duos create memories far more important than the ones headlining the newspapers. What they create is a special bond between the two.
“It was one thing to have a career that spanned 23 years professionally as I did Bobby Hull said. But to have your kid come along and play the same way Brett played it and accomplish what he’s accomplished… it is elating to me to join him in the Hall of Fame.”
Sharing the passion of sports between father and son extends beyond the sharing of sunflower seeds and being pre-game dinner buddies.
Although I’ve never played professional sports or had a father who did so I have learned the value of a positive father-son relationship and how very rare those seem to be nowadays. Whether or not my dad graces the cover of Sports Illustrated or drains a 40-foot putt on the 18th green at Augusta to solidify his place in golf immortality he’s still my hero. He’s still an integral part of the father-son dynamic duo as unique as the solar eclipse.
With the recent celebration of my father’s 63rd birthday Wednesday I’ve decided to dedicate this final piece of literary genius to him. As I close out the last column of the year I want to recognize not only my father but all your fathers as well for being heroes in their own right.
To every sports fanatic from Torrance to Toronto Bobby Hull is an iconic sports figure. “Golden Jet” is a no-doubt hall of fame hero. But to Brett he’s dad and no one else can say that. Now that’s special.
For me my dad is my hero. I want him shooting the half-court buzzer-beater to win the game. I want him depositing Andy Pettitte’s 95-mile-per-hour fastball in the second deck at Yankee Stadium. He’s my go-to guy. He’s not famous nor is he a danger on the diamond. He’s just clutch.
Some athletes get lucky with legendary fathers. Then again some define legendary a little differently. Every dad is a hero and hopefully you’ll never miss an opportunity to tell your father he’s yours.
Just a thought…