Dad was still trying to keep me in line
This is a column I wrote February 29, 2016, six days after my dad passed away. In honor of him and with Father’s Day being celebrated this Sunday I thought I’d post it again.
By Tim Peterson
He loved me so much that he once got tossed out of a junior high basketball game because I was fouled and the official missed the call.
He was also brutally honest, especially when it came to the people he loved. Once after I was out of high school, I asked him if he would help me get into a career in construction like he had with my brother. He said “Have you ever considered retail?”
“But I’ve gone with you on a couple of jobs. You’ve seen me use a hammer,” I protested.
“Uh, how about sports writing?” he replied.
He hated Las Vegas but because he loved his kids he once agreed to take us through “Sin City” at the end of a family vacation on the condition that he would show us the evils of gambling. As he pulled down the handle, he explained to the family how throwing money in a slot machine was like throwing it down the drain. He continued to explain how what an extraordinary exception it was and that it was only an aberration when he hit the jackpot on the first quarter.
He loved me but he also loved to win which is why when I made the next basket after he said “next basket wins” in a game of one-on-one, he would grab the ball and proclaim “Ok, next basket wins!” as he drove by me towards the hoop.
My Dad’s 81 year journey here on earth came to an end when he went to be with the Lord last Monday night. God has a new carpenter in heaven. He’ll be named Foreman soon.
I’ll miss my Dad putting me in a choke hold and wrestling me to the floor like Freddie Blassie. I’ll miss him hitting me ground ball after ground ball in the front yard to prepare me for a Little League tryout.
My Dad was constant, never changing. He was the same guy 50 years ago that he was when he was called home. He was the same moral, upstanding, Christian, God-fearing, feisty, cantankerous guy throughout his life.
When his Pastor in Carlsbad, Dwayne Edwards, told us we wouldn’t believe the effect he had on his church over the last 21 years, my sister Traci and brother Todd, looked at him and said “No, actually we would believe it. He was the same way in Temple City for 30 years.”
My Dad may have worked for 33 years as a Union Carpenter but worked for his local church for over 50.
He was old school. He couldn’t have told you a thing about Facebook or Instagram but he wrote hundreds of cards and letters offering encouragement to people he came in contact with. I received a card from him two days after he passed away.
Favorite Laker? Magic Johnson? Kobe Bryant? Jerry West? Nah! Mel Counts was his guy. “Good steady ball player,” he would say. Counts, a seven footer who had two stints with the Lakers between 1967 and 1974, was a hard working, lunch pail guy, with the same kind of work ethic that my Dad brought to the table every day.
My Dad considered old-timer Bob Cousy one of the greatest players ever.
That may not be true. But what is true is I considered Emery C.L. Peterson to be the greatest Father ever. I love you Dad. I’ll miss you. Next basket wins.
That’s my principle.
Tim can be reached at tim@midvalleysports.com or follow him on twitter @tspeterson40
Leave a Reply