Hey, y’all. It’s the Friday before Father’s Day.

And dads? Well … they’re awesome. Usually the reason we love sports, too.

So with that in mind, I asked several of my colleagues to share their own sports-related dad stories.

The result is today’s special newsletter. And it’s about to get misty.

MOMENTS AND MEMORIES

Leroy Chapman Jr. (right) with his father, Leroy Chapman Sr.

Credit: Courtesy photo

Leroy Chapman Jr., AJC editor-in-chief: “My dad was a baseball man.

“Leroy Chapman, Sr. introduced me to the game, he taught me the language and he patiently explained the intricacies of what each player was responsible for doing during each pitch. I was maybe 6 years old when this started.

“First, it was Monday Night Baseball on ABC. When I got a little older, we would take annual trips from Greenville, S.C. to Atlanta to see the Braves. We saw Murphy, Horner, Hubbard, Chambliss and Ramirez. Got to see Mike Schmidt and Dale Murphy homer on the same night. We booed Dusty Baker, Lopes and Garvey.

“I moved to Atlanta in 2011. I invited my dad to a game to relive those old times. Turns out he stopped going to baseball games after I left the house. My little brother wasn’t a fan. And just like that, 20 years had passed since he’d seen our Braves in person.

“In 2013, I brought back the tradition. My Father’s Day gift to him, each year we could make it happen, was the Braves. We lost him in 2020. He would have loved to have seen what Freeman, Swanson, Soler and Pederson gave us 2021.”

Chad Bishop, Georgia Tech beat writer: “Duh duh duh duh da duuuuuh! Charge!

‘Dad, why does everyone yell charge?’

‘ … Those are the people at the game who plan to play with a credit card. So if you’re going to use your credit card, you yell charge.’

‘Thanks a lot, dad.’”

Rod Beard, senior sports editor: “Pop culture and social media seem to suggest that the ideal Father’s Day is spent in front of a barbecue grill or on the couch, left unbothered from chores or other family obligations.

“I seemed to give that up when my older son started T-ball more than 20 years ago. When I went to the Police Athletic League office to sign him up, I had good intentions, but when I returned, I had a full equipment bag and a box of T-shirts. Instead of just going to sign him up for the team, I ended up as the coach.

“It was one of the most fulfilling choices I’ve made. Since that inauspicious start, I’ve been a coach for all three of my children’s teams, getting to spend valuable time with them each summer — usually starting somewhere around Father’s Day. Through the wins and losses, the high-fives and tears, it’s been a joy to be Coach Dad to them and a mentor to their teammates. I can’t remember the score to any of the games, but the lessons they learned about teamwork, accountability and effort are everlasting.”

AJ Willingham with her dad, Dave, at a Jupiter Hammerheads baseball game in 2021.

Credit: Courtesy photo

AJ Willingham, A.M. ATL newsletter host: “My late father Dave Willingham was an award-winning sports broadcaster in South Florida in the ’60s, ’70s and ’80s. He wasn’t effusive about his work, but did drop tidbits now and then. (Most pleasant interview: Vince Lombardi.) Even after a massive stroke later in life, he could recall the full roster of the 1972 Miami Dolphins without a second thought.

“After Muhammad Ali died in 2016, my dad remarked he had admired Ali but never really cared for his house. I privately attributed that to the brain damage until, astonishingly, my mom nodded in agreement. Thirty years I’d been on this Earth, and my dad never bothered to mention he covered Ali in Miami, let alone had some level of casual acquaintance. Classic dad behavior, withholding critical lore for decades. He was the coolest.”

Advertisement

Connor Riley, Dawgnation reporter: “My dad volunteered to coach my flag football team. He was working in New York at that time and would fly back on Fridays to coach practice and then games on Saturday. I, as a 10-year-old, couldn’t really understand or appreciate the effort that took at the time to make that happen.

“My dad had a goal of making sure every kid that played scored at least one touchdown that season. In the last game, our quarterback ripped off a long run only to step out at the 1-yard line so that one of the kids who hadn’t scored could get his touchdown. Said kid ended up scoring after multiple goal line attempts and the team rushed the field to celebrate. The scene was not dissimilar from how Georgia celebrated its first touchdown of the 2007 Florida game.”

Ken Sugiura, sports columnist: “One of my favorite memories of childhood was the many hours I spent in the backyard playing catch with my dad, Go Sugiura. Growing up in a suburb of Chicago, we were fortunate enough to have a yard large enough for me to chase down fly balls, field grounders, pitch and even hit. I can remember his exaggerated gyrations when I lined a pitch past him, his way of affirming my developing skill.

“My dad’s generosity with his time helped feed my sports obsession, putting me on a path that eventually led me to my career as a sports writer. It was a staple of summer weekend afternoons from the time I was perhaps in first or second grade through fifth or sixth grade. I didn’t realize it at the time, but those were some of the best days of my life.”

Fletcher Page (right) with his dad, Pete.

Credit: Courtesy photo

Fletcher Page, Athens bureau chief.“When I was little, my dad — I always called him Pete — used to tell me, ‘Act like you know somebody and you’ve been somewhere.’ That line kept me in line, but it also gave me confidence.

“When I was about 5, Pete took me to a NASCAR race at Atlanta Motor Speedway. He stopped to buy a program just outside the gate, and I stood with him for a couple seconds before I decided I didn’t need a program — so I headed inside by myself.

“The guy taking tickets didn’t stop me as I walked into a place with 80,000 other people, without my dad or anybody else I knew. My dad and the people in our group freaked out when they realized I was gone. They searched everywhere until somebody checked the seats we were supposed to be in. There I was, legs propped up, waiting for everybody else.

“I didn’t understand why they were upset, because in my mind, I was never lost. The day before, Pete and I had watched practice at the track. Before we left, he walked me to our seats for race day. He pointed to the section, the row, and the seats. We memorized it together.

“‘Just in case,’ Pete said.

“So when I went through that gate, without my ticket, I already knew where I was going. Pete made sure I stayed on the right track, even when things didn’t follow the plan.

“He loved telling this story because he was proud of how I pulled it off. Since he died in 2017, I’ve told it, too — because I’m proud of how Pete set me up to succeed.”

Advertisement

Phew. Happy Father’s Day, y’all.

Until next time.