Canzano: Anyone up for a game of catch?
Father's Day, LEGOs... and cameos by Kyle Whittingham, Jake Dickert, and Bobby Hurley
We lived on a gravel road when I was a kid. I can still hear the sound of my father’s tires turning into our driveway after a long day of work. It makes me smile, even now, to think about it.
Dad always brought home the sports section.
I’d run out the door and greet him. He’d reach into the backseat and hand me the folded newspaper. We’d walk into the house side-by-side talking about sports. And I’d rip through the pages of The San Jose Mercury News sports section and pore over the box scores and pitching matchups while my Dad changed out of his work clothes.
That conversation with my father has never stopped. It continues here, even today, in print. My dad is 77 now. He still parks in the same driveway. When I think about Father’s Day, my childhood memories include the sports section, games of catch in the backyard, and long trips to the bookstore.
I asked Utah football coach Kyle Whittingham to tell me about his Dad once. Whittingham shared:
“Everything I am as a coach, a teacher I got from my father. I had the good fortune to play for him in college. He treated me harder than anyone else. I’ve never been around a coach who conveyed complex information in a simplistic manner. Everything I am, I learned from my father. He was disciplined.”
Bobby Hurley, the Arizona State men’s basketball coach, told me of his father:
“My dad introduced me to something I grew to love. There was this bingo hall — White Eagle Hall — where St. Anthony High School practiced. I put out the bingo chairs every Friday from age 5 to when I finished at Duke. They had bingo on Friday through Saturday then you’d put the bingo chairs away and we’d practice. I also remember a few times when my dad and I didn’t see things the same way at practice. He’d give me money for the No. 9 bus in New Jersey. I never would have gotten to where I am without my dad.”
Washington State head football coach Jake Dickert told me about his Dad once:
“He was a school teacher, principal, and superintendent. He always had the keys to the school gym. We always had the opportunity to go to the gym, open up the stuff, we’d play hockey and basketball. That was a special time we shared together. Those little moments are amazing. Also, he never let me and my brother win — ever. In middle school, we finally beat him. We celebrated. I still think about that lesson: Don’t go easy and let these kids win.”
I wonder what childhood memories my three daughters will recall years from now. I wonder what your memories with your father figure are. I’d love it if you shared a few in the comment section.
Happy Father’s Day to all the dads and, also, to those who played the role of father. It’s going to be a busy and fun week. I have several interesting and important pieces moving toward publication. My goal is to give you sourced, in-depth reporting and commentary that you can’t get anywhere else. On Monday, I’ll publish twice. I’m glad you’re here for it.
If you’d like to give a gift subscription to JohnCanzano.com to your father, use this link. It’s not a game of catch. It’s a connection that involves sports. I understand that better than most. You may also donate a subscription to a senior who couldn’t otherwise afford one.
The kid called “Shoe” and “LEGO time”
• Once a year, I get an email from Tammi Huber that includes one of my favorite phrases: “It’s LEGO time.”
Huber’s son, Jack Schumacher, lost a battle with bone cancer six years ago. A surgery took a chunk of muscle from his back. Another left him without a pelvis. In the final hours of his life, his mother crawled into the hospital bed, wrapped her arms around Jack, and held him as he died.
He was 14.
The kid loved baseball and was an excellent student. But whenever I tell the story of the kid nicknamed “Shoe” it always includes LEGOs. Amid the medical treatments and the reality that his condition was terminal, Jack noticed that the other children receiving cancer treatment at Doernbecher Children’s Hospital didn’t have LEGOs to play with.
“Mom,” he said before his death, “I’m going to make it a goal to collect 100 LEGO sets for those kids.”
He collected 300.
Jack was always thinking about other people. His mother adopted the LEGO mission and continues to collect hundreds of sets every year. She drops them off at children’s hospitals, where she knows they’ll be put to good use.
Readers of this publication always come up big. Tammi sent me photos of her doorstep last year. She came home from work and found the porch stacked with Amazon packages containing LEGO sets. If you’d like to donate one, she’s created an Amazon wish list with a variety of price points. Use the link. It automatically ships your donation to her. And if you’d like to hear Tammi talk about her son and the continued mission, give the interview below a listen:
Thank you for reading. I appreciate all who have supported, subscribed, and shared my new independent endeavor with friends and family in recent months. If you haven’t already — please consider subscribing.
JC - thanks for the piece on "Shoe". Just sent some LEGO kits to Tammi.
On Father's Day I think of my single Mom. She deserved both Mother's and Father's Day. Raised six kids, worked two jobs, graduated from College and then went on to her MS in Special Ed....all while catching for me and attending all my ball games. Thanks Mom/Dad.
When I was young we were rather poor financially. Dad gave us kids the gift of time, which it turns out was the most important gift you can give. Weekends playing in the mountains of oregon, and I got to work and hunt with him thru my college years. Just celebrated his 80th birthday a couple of weeks ago. Still living independently, working on his old cars, and maintaining his 40 acres of trees.