Hey Pops,

Happy belated Father’s Day. I know I told you in person yesterday, but I wanted to write you a note too. I was thinking late last night about how grateful I am for all the memories we’ve shared together. Some with my brothers, some just you and me. I’m deciding to share this for the reason that so many of our memories involve sports. I wanted to share a few stories so you and so many other sports dads can understand the impact silly little games can have on us, and how they teach us to be better in every other aspect of our lives.

Thanks for teaching me to never quit on myself. I remember you taking me back home from a grade school basketball game. Late in the first half that night, I inbounded the ball off a made basket without seeing the lurking defender. I threw the pass right to him, and fouled him for an and-1. Embarrassing. Needless to say, that play stood out in the halftime locker room. I told you on the car ride home that I had basically checked out from that point on. You looked at me confused from the driver seat. “Jake, never take yourself out of the game. Coach can take you out, but you keep playing until you hit the bench.” It wasn’t admonishment, it wasn’t even said sternly. It was a call to believe in myself.  I remember that story when I think about “mailing it in.” It’s really easy to coast, to make excuses for why I didn’t give 100%. You never give less than that. It showed all the nights I’d ask where you were and mom would list off 3 or 4 events you were making appearances at that night. Moreover, that you still made as much time as you did to show up to all those basketball games.

Thanks for teaching me that it’s the journey, not the destination. Every year, we talk about which season will be our last heading down to Champaign to watch Illinois football games. We talk a big game. We moan about how incompetent they seem and how marginal the product is. Hell, I didn’t even go to school there like my brothers, but I keep coming back. Those 3-hour trips with you are way more valuable than any game. Those rides were some of the hardest times I’ve ever laughed. They’re also some of the most difficult conversations I’ve ever had. As a professional avoider, the only way to really corner me is to trap me in a moving vehicle through cornfields on I-39. But my life is so much better because you loved me enough to start them, and to challenge me to be better. You never held them over my head once we were at the game, or once we were home. Those journeys are way more valuable than any Illini win. (Though a couple more a year wouldn’t kill the story.)

Thanks for giving me and my brothers the tools to stay so close. We just finished playing four rounds of golf in three days over the weekend. We only have the ability to do that because you put our growth and development above your own needs and wants. A lot of people use golf as a way to escape fighting and crying kids. Instead, you brought the craziness with you. You coaxed us through the meltdowns, and you taught us how to have fun and laugh even when we struggled. 

Thanks for giving me all this exposure to sports, and encouraging me to have opinions on them. Not just on sports, but everything else. Even the messy stuff like religion (gasp!) or politics (GASP!).  You always encouraged me to think for myself, even if those thoughts didn’t line up with yours. It taught me how to have strong beliefs, and yet never belittle someone else’s. I don’t have this job if not for that lesson.

Most of all, thanks for giving me so much and asking for so little in return. I hope one day I can be half the role-model you’ve been for me.

Love,

Your “favorite youngest son” Jacob

Happy Fathers Day to all stateliness sports dads. Regardless of what anyone tells you, sports can teach your sons and daughters some amazing lessons.

– Jake Logli, SportsFan 1330