Reading the posts about fathers and little daughters bonding with baseball makes me glad, and sad. My own dad taught me to keep a baseball scorebook when I was about 6. I remember going to minor league games in Arlington with him and mama, and him teaching me the position numbers and how to note on the scorecard how the out was made or how the run scored. He taught me that you never merely indicate that a batter advanced -- you also have to note HOW he advanced. To this day, it rankles the **** out of me when I look at someone else's scorecard and they don't account for all the bases.
My love for baseball, which has been well-documented on these boards, was instilled in me by my dad. He died 25 years ago and I still miss him, him and mama, every single day. I know he's up in Heaven enjoying the good run the Rangers are having right now, but I also know he's cussing because this team needs better starting pitching.
