My father was a bullfighter.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
My father was raised with brothers, he was a football player and a boxer, he was a chief petty officer in the Navy, he was a man of his times.
My father owned pit bulls when I was young. He sometimes fought them. My brother and a lot of the men in my community owned pit bulls as well: sometimes they fought them for honor, never for money.
My father was a sort of John Wayne Texan who'd worked as a cowboy when he was young. He'd participated in rattlesnake round-ups and swum with copperheads.
My father was one tough man.
I never ran with my dad. He was old-school. He had a whole different idea of training. He ran in steel-toed boots! But, of course, he's proud of me and proud of the boxer that I became.
With Dad, he was the ultimate wildlife warrior, and we admired him more than anything.
You know, my parents, they raised me to be a fighter.
My dad was a cross-country truck driver.
My father's a firefighter. He was my whole life. And my brother-in-law and several family members are firefighters.
My dad was a golden gloves boxer in the Marine Corps, then a deputy sheriff. My mom worked as an office assistant.