When I talk about my lifelong passion for sports, most people assume it was Dad, or maybe a brother, who passed that along to me, taking me to games, teaching me how to keep a scorecard. The truth is that MY Dad couldn't care less about team sports. I still remember fighting him to watch Bears games, Cubs games, Blackhawks games....you name it. "But, Dad," I'd protest. "It's the playoffs!"
It's not that he isn't athletic. At nearly 90, Dad still happily walks to the store and back, ran laps at a college track and swam until he was 80. He rides his ancient Sportrider in the basement of the family home, and...ahem...can still put a smile on my mother's face and a sparkle in her eye. I can only hope to be as happy and fit as he is on MY 90th birthday.
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