Earlier today, my wife and I brought our son Ethan (a big Yankees fan and the Design Manager and frequent contributor to this site) back to college for his sophomore year.
I’m always a bit emotional and sad when I leave my kids at college. A part of me always feels empty when I contemplate the weeks and months that they’ll be away. I love when my sons are home, they make our home complete.
I think the best part of my life is just being Dad.
Continue reading “Father and Son, College, Giancarlo Stanton, and Kit Kats”
(This story is also published at www.startspreadingthenews.blog)
We were in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, Amish Country, with many family members to celebrate my father’s 80th birthday.
Our family started to gather in the hotel lobby so we could head off to dinner. Sitting at the center of it all, proudly wearing his Red Sox hat, was Dad, basking in the joy of togetherness. He had his wife and children with him – and a few of the grandkids. My dad loves his family even more than he loves the Red Sox (although he has loved the Red Sox longer than any of us. Dad’s love of the Sox goes back to 1946. He met my mom in the late 1950’s and my sister and I came more than a decade after that.)
Continue reading “A Yankees Fan, A Red Sox Fan, and a Very Special Baseball Bat”
The following passage come from my acclaimed book Impossible is an Illusion.
Alex Semendinger is a great kid. All the Semendinger boys are great kids. (Of course, I may be little biased in my assessment.)
Although Alex has many great attributes – he is kind, understanding, funny, smart, hard working, focused – as he grew up, organization was not one of them.
“Alex, is your room clean?” was an often-heard question in the Semendinger house. The follow-up answer, “Yes” also led to an interesting dynamic. Alex’s definition of clean, and my definition of clean, were not the same thing.
Growing up, Alex loved marbles. As marbles seemed to be a frequently gifted item, I believe there was a time when he possessed no fewer than 45,765 marbles. Alex’s collection contained marbles of various shapes, designs, and colors. Cats-eyes, agates, onionskins, alleys, solids, micas, and peppermint swirls, he had them all. It was an impressive array of marbles.
Continue reading “Marbles”
(This post can also be found on NYY_Report (“Start Spreading the News”):
We are sports fans. There is something special and wonderful and unique about being a sports fan. We love our teams and certain players. We get excited by special moments.
And when disappointment hits, it hits hard – and it often hurts.
Continue reading “Saying Goodbye to Matsui & Meb”
(The following passage was included as part of the monthly newsletter that I send out to the parents of my school community.)
It is no secret that I enjoy sports, mostly baseball, and that I have always been a big fan of the New York Yankees. There is something about baseball that resonates with me. The ebb and flow of the game, the simplicity, the day-to-day consistency… Like a good friend, from April through September, baseball is a constant companion. I love it.
One of the big stories that has come out of this year’s baseball season has been the fact that a rookie on the New York Yankees, a certain Aaron Judge, recently set the record for the most home runs ever hit in one’s first season. No player had ever hit 50 home runs as a rookie until Aaron Judge accomplished that feat. Amazing.
Continue reading “The Judge”
Often times we say, “I can’t do that” or “I’m not good at that.” (I am as guilty of this as anyone. There’s a lot I sometimes believe I can’t do.)
When we say the words, “I can’t,” we are limiting ourselves. As a result, I believe that some of the most damaging words in our language are “I can’t.”
When we say we can’t, we make our own lives poorer – not richer. When we say we can’t, we eliminate the possibilities and the learning that comes with and from new experiences. When we say we can’t, our world becomes smaller, our interests become fewer, and we deprive ourselves of the opportunity to learn more about ourselves.
Continue reading “Limits”
…sometimes a picture really is worth 1,000 (well, a lot more than that) words.
Ever since my son Ryan had the same thought I did for an activity during our visit to see him in Georgia (“Three miles up, three miles down…”), I had been thinking of running Currahee Mountain.
Currahee Mountain is the (extremely) large hill that was used as a (very difficult) physical fitness activity at Camp Toccoa during the early stages of paratrooper training during World War II. The stories of the training, and the success of the troops, has been immortalized in the book and HBO miniseries Band of Brothers which tells the story of Easy Company from the 506th Regiment of the 101st Airborne.
Continue reading “Running Currahee”
It was the day before Fathers’ Day. With the school year winding down, and summer beckoning, I found a few moments of quiet respite in my home. For the first time, in a very long time, I felt myself relaxing. Calmness and peace, two emotions I don’t experience often, were not as far away as they normally are.
Continue reading “Currahee!”
The great Joe Posnanski recently wrote a blog post one of the first great book he ever read, The Kid Who Only Hit Homers. I often relate to a lot of what Mr. Posnanski writes about, but this was other worldly… that was also the first great book I ever read.
Continue reading “The Kid, Home Runs, and Memories”