The day I knew I loved him was the day I was born. 14 years later that love has not changed.  My dad is the most important person in my life from coming and taking me to all my sporting events to making me dinner. He has always been there for me no matter what is thrown at him.

Whether it’s on a field, a court, or a diamond, my dad is the reason I am there. He was always doing sports throughout his childhood just like I have and will continue to do. The first sport he introduced me to was soccer. My dad coached my team, and I can still hear his voice echoing “good job” as I learned how to kick and pass the ball. No matter how I played he was always telling me good job, helping me improve, and practicing with me. We would go to the grassy, windy, hole filled field and pass the ball back and forth until the sun set behind the trees. Soccer lasted for a few years, and as I grew my dad would talk and talk about football, which made me wonder what it was like. I couldn’t wait so I decided to sign up for the youth football team. 

Even though my dad was not the coach he attended every game, drove me to and from practice, and talked “football’ with me any chance he got. At games, I could always find him in the stands wearing a hat and a Johnstown, Ohio red jacket. He recorded every down, play, tackle, catch, and touchdown. If we weren't at the football field we would be watching football at the house. Football lasted every year, up until last year, and my dad never missed a game.
Just like how he never missed a football game, the same goes for baseball. The first time my dad ever threw a baseball at me was in our front yard. He stood ten feet in front of me. He asked if I was ready and I said yes. He threw the ball in the air and it smacked me right in the face like a sizzling sunburn after a long day at the beach. At that moment I was fuming and declared I never want to play baseball again. We went inside to the house, my dad got some ice, and told me to relax, this is your first time playing baseball. After icing my bruise for a few minutes we went back outside. I was willing to try catching the ball again. This time we stood four feet apart and even though I still didn’t catch the ball, it didn’t hit me. I look back on that day and thank my dad for loving me enough to calm me down and help me try again. This “try again” attitude has led to my success as a baseball player today, and I give my dad a lot of the credit. 

My dad has always been there for me even if it wasn't for sports. I would always remember him coming to my rescue when I needed him. There have been a number of times I got hurt, and he was there to make everything better. One of the earliest injuries I remember him being there for, was when I crashed my dirt bike. I was about eight when I decided I wanted a dirt bike. My father got me one for my birthday that year and all I wanted to do was ride it. The first time I rode it I did good other than the fact that I ran into a huge rock and hurt myself. I never wanted to get on that dirt bike again but he told me it was a freak accident and I just needed to be careful. I got on it one more time that day, after that I never got on it again. We ended up having to sell it because I wouldn't go on it. My dad told me it was ok and hugged me to sleep, and once again I saw that no matter how bad I mess up he will be there to comfort me.

As you know my father has always been there for me, sadly I have not been there for him. The way I repay him for what he has done for me is with pain. Pain from getting mad when I shouldn’t, pain from not thanking him enough for everything he has done, and pain from always arguing with him and trying to have the final say.  I always make life harder for him even when I know I shouldn't. I hate when I see him sad, but most of the time it's my fault. I wish my dad knew how much I love him and how I hate making his life harder. I love you dad.