I do know that the only reason I even play baseball is because of my dad. I didn’t have talent, but I play well enough now. And that’s only because he made me play so much. All the time, obsessively almost, because he was adamant that if he was going to have a son who plays baseball, he better have been good at it. There were a lot of tears involved in my tee-ball days. I’ve looked back at my childhood a lot, and the only time he ever really expressed any interest in me was when I was playing. It wasn’t until my sophomore year of high school that my mom told me why. He tried to go big, make it
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