There are so many things I could write about my dad on this, the weekend of Father's Day. Dan Fogelberg got it right: "I'm just a living legacy to the leader of the band" (written about his dad). But one thing I'll always remember is that he was THERE. He was running a daily newspaper and he was the mayor of our city. (All right, it was a town. At the time, I thought Neosho was a city because people from Goodman, Granby, and Diamond drove there to see a movie or eat at Dog-N-Suds. We, on the other hand, drove to Joplin, because it had a choice of theaters and a Shotgun Sam's pizza.) And yet, he was at every game I ever played. I know at times that must have been hard. Twenty years before he'd been a star on the Neosho football team. And I think he told me his dad never saw him play. (My granddad was a great man--but they lived way out in the country and I guess he just didn't place that high on the priority list. I'm sure he was "there" in many other ways.) I battle traveling all the time. Just yesterday, after the chairman of my travel group met with my assistant, we sent "sorry, but not this year" notes to Rochester College, OCU, and Ohio Valley. I hate that. There's no one I'd rather speak to more than university students. But as I looked that young man in the eyes a week ago and thought about how proud I was of him, it made all of those "sorry but not this year" notes seem right. I don't mean to sound heroic here. I made some mistakes. Some bad ones. I've had to apologize for too much traveling during some of the difficult years with Megan. I thought I was saying "no" to most requests and accepting only a few. But the airline miles tell another story. It's one of my real regrets. Wish I could have a "do over." Anyway, Matt's little brother deserves the same thing: a dad who is around to coach, encourage, play, and pray. I may get a lot of things wrong in life, but this is one thing I want to try to get (almost) right: the dad gig.