In typical fashion, I haven't been keeping up with this blogging thing (those of you (hayden, nikki, marign) who read my pain train blog know how I tend to do this). I am a huge fan of this blog. Most of the content comes from my very best friend, HWKane, who is an extremely talented writer. I truly love to read his work and should really try and add some posts from time to time so he doesnt have to carry the load.
I've been meaning to write something but haven't been able to come up with a good topic. My now legendary post about Jeff Conine and his many faces was a good jumping off point but I've never come up with a good theme for my writing on this blog. This post will surely display that as I delve into some heavier content that the devout followers of WTP aren't accustomed to.
Today is Father's day.
Now, I realize that not everyone is as lucky as we are. All the contributors of this blog have great dads (Tom and Karl I know and love, D-Shaff I'm just going to give your pops the benefit of the doubt since I've never met him but I'm sure he is a stand up guy). As men (men-ish), whether we like it or not, our dads are our biggest influences. Much like women ALWAYS end up looking like their Moms (rule to live by when picking a lady fellas), men end up turning into their fathers with few exceptions. We (generally) share the same views, morals and devastating good looks. Fight it as much as you want boys but one day, you'll be that guy falling asleep on the couch with a beer watching the ball game.
Let me tell you a little bit (actually a lot) about my dad. Robert Wayne Presley M.D. was a great man. Far from the perfect father and husband, but the perfect dad and husband for us if that makes sense. A man who literally made his life's work taking away pain from people as an anesthesiologist and a man who cared deeply about his wife and children as well as those he considered to be family. He wasn't the most social person so he married a social butterfly. He was more of a "gifted IQ, lacking social skills" kind of guy. His friends were the people he met in medical school and others that he met along the way that he respected (Hayden's dad for one). He was your every day, average, genius doctor.
This was a man with a very unique skill. Well, he had a lot of skills (bow staff skills, computer hacking skills, etc) but lets focus on one.
This man's very presence at a sporting event in which I was playing sent me in to a frenzy. I could run faster, hit better, throw harder. I turned into a much sexier Babe Ruth the moment I caught a glimpse of him in the stands. The guy was very committed to his practice so he didnt always have the time to make every game. I used to have trouble understanding but I guess in some ways when he did make it, it was that much more special.
I remember when we first moved to Colorado, he came to a game early in the season in which I was the starting pitcher. I knew he was going to try and make it but was unsure if he could get away from his appointments in time. He showed up right before the game started as I was warming up.
I threw a no hitter with 11 strike outs that game.
I grew up in Northern California where they dont mess around in little league. If you made a key error in a game, your name was going in the paper the following week. It was no joke. In CA, Dad had to work extra hard because of the high cost of living and could rarely make a game. My 12 year old year this was especially true. He really couldnt make many. The end of the year tournament came around and he was able to make all 4 games. I have never hit so well in my life. I couldnt get out if I tried. In one game in particular, I hit a home run early in the game and had a walk off triple. I will never forget looking up in the stands to see my Dad crying his eyes out and cheering for me at the top of his lungs.
He loved to watch me play and damnit I loved to play for him.
Dad and I spent four of the best days of my life in Seattle when I was 18, just the two of us. I desperately wanted to play baseball for the University of Washington so I got the chance to take a trip up there and visit the school and team. We went to a couple of practices and I will never ever forget sitting in the dugout and having him look at me and say "Oh Ry, you can play with these kids. You really can play with these kids". That meant so much to me. Later in the day, as we were watching batting practice, he made another comment about how I could "light this pitcher up". That pitcher was Tim Lincecum. I love you Dad but you were slightly off point on that one.
My father passed away suddenly on July 25th, 2004.
I miss him every day.
I am left with wounds that will never heal and a hole I cannot fill. However, I am also left with these memories to carry with me and in some cases just plain carry me. My whole point that I would hope you take away from this is that I am astoundingly lucky to have had a father the caliber of Robert W. Presley M.D. I will always remember playing catch in the street and running around the park with my dad who could barely walk at times but did it anyway. We used to sit up for hours and hours talking about College and girls. I loved doing that with my dad. I sign my name Ry Presley because thats what he called me. I still wear his old shirts around the house.
So on this father's day, I would hope that you all take some time to tell your dad exactly what he means to you. My aim here was to do exactly that for my dad.
I love you very much Dad. You're my hero.
Happy Father's day.
-RDP
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