Happy Fathers Day to all of you Dads out there. My life changed completely, all because a man entered my life when I was 15 years old. At first he was some guy my Mom knew that I had no interest in getting to know. I didn't need my abusive Father and I certainly didn't need a stranger telling me what to do, I'm 15 I know pretty much everything right? The next few years I began to listen to him about things when he didn't think I was, I watched how he provided for my Mom, my little brother, and me as much as I resented it. He was ok I guess, I told myself as I realized I was slowly spending more time with him. Then it happened, Fathers Day 1999. A day that changed me and my life's direction forever. It was a Sunday afternoon, pouring down rain and we were sitting down watching golf on tv. I was irritated because I had to sit around the house watching a "crap sport" since my Orioles had already beat the White Sox 8-4 thanks to Harold Baines paying his former team back going 3-4 with 3 rbi's. Anyway, I thought he was tired of me asking how hard could it be to hit a ball that just sits there, and mocking shots the announcer seemed to ooh and ahh over. My Stepfather looks at me and says, let's go, I'm taking you to the course around the corner and we're going to play a few holes. Maybe you'll understand the sport more and realize why I like it. I thought, "does he not realize we'll be soaked?" It was pouring buckets, I could just make out the bay from our window which was about a 20 yard flop shot from us. So we got dressed up in our rain gear, he looked all PGA Tour Pro in his rain gear and I was in my O's hat, shorts, and his old golf windbreaker as we took the 5 minute ride. I remember hearing the wipers squeaking on the highest setting on the ride over, that's how hard it was raining. We pull up, I grab his clubs and we walk into the clubhouse, which to my surprise was open. The man at the counter was watching the same "crap sport" on tv we were watching from my parents cool, dry living room just moments ago. He looked up at us, grinned and said "seriously? I can't give you a cart, they're all locked up but if you want to walk, have at it!" Not wanting to be a wuss I looked up at my Stepdad and said "I'm ok if you are" almost taunting him hoping the entire time he calls off this insanity and we can go back to his cool, dry, house with the awesome couch. I'll catch one heck of a nap while he watches his "crap sport" on tv. But the old Navy Vet without missing a breath thanks the man at the counter, grabs a pencil and scorecard (which was hilarious to me, it was pouring!) and out we go into the storm. I remember him teeing up his ball, a Titleist Tour 90 balata I think it was, either way he smoked it right down the middle. Not to be outdone I step up, tee it up in the wet, perfectly manicured grass, and swing like I caught it breaking into my house! Next thing I know I'm looking up, and notice the ball still on the tee and I'm on my can in a puddle. Here's the moment, he reaches down, grabs my hand to help me up. No words needed to said, from that point forward I listened to every tip, watched without making fun, and just soaked up every bit of knowledge I could. We played until it was to dark to see, at some point I started carrying his clubs like a caddy, studying each one before I handed it to him, and cleaning it before it went back into the bag. We left the course and headed home but to my surprise we didn't turn to go down our street. Instead he drove to a local department store, walked me to the sporting goods isle, and purchased a set of clubs, a bag, shoes, and a pull cart. We were both soaked and dripping all over the stores floor, laughing, shivering from the air conditioning blasting in the store, but none of that mattered. When he reached down to pick me up, it wasn't just to show me how to hit a golf ball, it was the start of a friendship, that lead to a bond. Not only is he my Dad, my golf coach, baseball coach, life coach, but my best friend. Every Father's Day we play a tournament for "the Van De Velde Cup" a trophy we have engraved with the winners name every year. His name may be on it way more than mine, but trust me I'm the winner. Happy Fathers Day to all of you dads out there from your sons who may not say it, we appreciate every little moment, even something as simple as lifting us out of a puddle.