The only other time I can recall my dad getting upset at me was when I missed a hockey practice. My parents were away, so my buddy and I decided to skip it. I never told my dad about it, but he found out from the coach.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
One of the first coaches I worked with on the national team told me that I was too skinny, too puny, and had no natural acceleration. He said I'd be better off looking for another facet of sport to follow. That was a really, really bad moment. For a long time, I felt as if my dad was the only one who had faith in me.
When I was a freshman and sophomore, I got booed every time I was put in the game. Then, in my junior and senior years, my dad got booed every time he took me out.
I've seen fathers criticizing their sons the moment a game's over. Not my dad. It doesn't matter if I threw an interception or a Hail Mary, he always says, 'Good job, son, I'm proud of you.' Then he shakes my hand and gives me a hug. Every time.
When I was a kid, I thought my dad was a little bit harsh with me at times. Sometimes I needed an arm around me instead of my dad telling me what I did wrong, but it obviously worked.
We lived in Colorado, and my parents were outdoorsy mountain people. My father would always say, 'Go out and don't come back until you have something to show me.' Which meant he wanted me to come back with a scraped knee or an injury. When I went out to play, I felt like I'd better get hurt.
I turned up to all my son's performances and baseball games because my father never did that for me.
My dad was my first coach and drove me extremely hard from a very young age.
My dad introduced me to baseball. Then one of my friends asked if I could play on a team; my dad said I could, and I just fell in love with the game.
My dad was real hard on me. He wasn't really big on congratulating and stuff like that.
I can't remember a major league game where I could make eye contact with my dad. I kept wondering if he was going to yell at me for hanging a pitch or something.