On three straight fastballs.

If that’s crazy to read, think about how crazy it is for me to write.

What’s stranger is that I didn’t even know that until sometime in my teenage years, around high school. 

Even now, more than thirty years after finding out, I know the broad brush strokes…the highlights, but not many details. 

That’s because my dad has spent a lifetime of pouring into me in other ways.

I can remember, in vivid detail, so many moments that have had lasting influence in how I lead my own family. Here are couple examples:

There’s the time that I told him I wanted to quit baseball mid-season. He calmly said I wouldn’t be quitting – that I made a commitment to stick by my teammates when I signed up and that we live up to our word in the Martin family. Of course that ended up being the best baseball season of my life. 

Or the time that he told me, in no uncertain terms, that he and my mom’s relationship was the priority over us kids. As a husband and parent now, I can’t tell you how much it meant to see him exemplify the proper order of relational importance in a household.

But more than the big moments, it’s undoubtedly the daily minutiae that have had the greatest impact on me.

Things like:

His uncanny ability to make someone laugh, every day of his life. Drive-thrus, check-out lines, restaurant servers. Nobody is off limits from my dad trying to brighten your day by making you burst into hysterics.

Or how I have never known my mom to be without a fresh cup of coffee, a clean car, or a full tank of gas every day of her life. 

Or the simple fact that he was home with us every night, without fail. 

And without a doubt the most significant is that he never let me get out of going to church with my attempts to fake sleep. He might have had to call into my room a time or two, but he made it known that my rear end better be in the car by the time we were supposed to leave. 

He’s set an incredible example of how to be a great husband, a great dad, and a great man. There are plenty of times I don’t get it right, but I’m still striving to reach the ideal he continues to model for me to this day. 

This is also the reason that I’m so driven to help other dads be the best they can be for their families – I know the positive impact it can have. 

If we’re all praying and working for a generational transformation, then we need to be a transformational generation.

So yea, my dad struck out Pete Rose in the 1980 World Series. But he did, and continues to do, so much more than that.

Thank you Pops!