I know I start a lot of posts with those three words.
Baseball has been a part of my life for nearly all my life.
My Mom and Dad would tease each other in which word I would say first, "Mom" or "Dad".
They were both wrong.
It was "Ball'.
When I was six years old, my parents took me to Church.
During Sunday School, the Sunday School teacher said, "Danny, do you know who answers all your prayers?"
I was ready, even at six years of age, I knew the answer to this softball of a question.
He teed it up and I was going to knock it out of the park.
I stood up and said confidently..."WILLIE MAYS!"
Every adult in the room broke up laughing.
I knew then and there that they didn't think I had the right answer.
But hey, it wasn't my fault they didn't follow the Giants.
My Dad became a rolling stone. He was a member of the fire department. A great citizen.
Then something happened to him. He had delusions of grandeur.
He started moving our family here and there.
He quit his job.
He moved us to a town with a population of around 100. Pioneer, California.
I went from organized Little League to batting rocks.
I would get good tree branches, axe handles, or discarded broken baseball bats and hit the rocks that made up the gravel road in front of our house.
I would play whole games in my mind with the lineups of the Giants and Dodgers.
Being a Giant fan, Marichal beat Koufax a lot more in my head than in real life.
My Dad pursued his dreams. We were within a stone's throw of Sutter Creek and he was so sure that he was going to strike gold.
He didn't.
Our family subsisted mostly on squirrel, rabbit, and trout and bluegills.
To this day, when somebody says the word 'bluegill', my lip automatically turns up.
We moved to Colorado as I was beginning high school.
I was no longer a Giants fan. When the Giants traded Willie Mays, I decided I would never give my heart to another team.
I was wrong of course.
I give my heart now to every fantasy team I own.
![Very Happy :D](./images/smilies/icon_e_biggrin.gif)
In Colorado, I could only listen to baseball games at night.
The Cards on KMOX and my old pals, the Giants on KNBR.
My Dad moved to Colorado, now with the dream of working in the wildlife field.
He fancied himself an expert hunter and fisherman after our time in Pioneer.
Reality was, he got work as a painter and would finish his life in that profession.
My autograph is a little remembrance of my Dad.
He never fulfilled any dreams.
Much as I will never really have the perfect draft.
The rest of my family moved to Indiana when I was in College here.
I stayed.
I blew my arm out pitching.
But that was alright because I got to meet my future wife while I finished out my last year in College.
I threw myself into our local softball program.
Working as a Scorekeeper, Umpire, and Supervisor.
And playing fast pitch and slow pitch.
I put together a few teams that won State, National, and World titles.
After my playing days were over, I continued working at the park.
And did until retiring this year.
I've also worked for the Colorado Rockies in some capacities there also for the last six years.