Dad

Thirteen years ago today, the man who taught me to love baseball, my dad, died of colon cancer.

My dad was a great guy. He was brilliant - he knew something about absolutely everything. He had a wry sense of humor, and he could tell the best stories.

He taught me many things like cooking and driving. But he firmly believed that every kid needed two skills: playing cribbage and scoring baseball games. He took me to a few games at the old Met Stadium. His favorite player was Roy Smalley, while I had a mad crush on Butch Wynegar.

My favorite memories are of summer evenings when we would go down to the Dairy Queen - the kind where you had to walk up to the window to order- and sit in his beat-up old maroon truck in the glow of the yellow lights that were supposed to keep the mosquitos away but didn't, and listen the Herb Carneal call the Twins game on the radio.

So, in his memory, I will take part in the Get Your Rear in Gear 5k at Southdale on April 13 benefiting the Colon Cancer Coalition. For me, it's a great way to make a difference and honor my dad.