Fill-in Dad

Growing up, my dad and I did not have what would be called a close relationship. I’m not sure why, but one reason could be that dad was not much of a talker. He worked hard to support the family, and had other activities that took up his time. Unfortunately, because of the distance we lived from each other, we never had the opportunity to grow closer throughout my adult years. There was one common bond that dad and I had. I loved playing sports and he loved watching me play. If I had a game dad was there.

In the spring of 1974, I was the starting catcher on my high school baseball team. It just so happened that my younger brother was to receive the sacrament of confirmation, in the Catholic Church, that same spring, and he asked me to be his sponsor. Confirmation is the ceremony, which transforms a youth into an adult member of the church. As a sponsor, you stand with the youth during the ceremony, and act as his mentor.

The day of the confirmation ceremony happened to be a game day for me. I recall there was not any concern about this because the confirmation was in the evening, and the baseball game was after school. There should have been plenty of time for me to attend the ceremony. We had a good team that year, ending the season as district runner-up. This particular game was a big one, because the opposing team was in our conference, and also pretty good. The game went into extra innings, and eventually I had to go to my dad and ask what I was supposed to do. It was time to leave for the church, but the game was not over. I knew that confirmation was important, and my brother was counting on me, but this was baseball, and I’m the catcher. My dad answered me by saying “You can’t leave this game.” Dad explained that he would go to the ceremony and take my place.

Going to the game right after work, he was dressed in his work clothes. A white long sleeve shirt and black-cuffed pants were dad’s work attire. He was a meat cutter (butcher), and that white shirt always had a bloodstain or two on it. Back in those days, the floors of butcher shops were covered with a couple inches of sawdust. This kept the workers from slipping on the slick surface. His black pants always had sawdust on them, and the pant cuffs were usually half way full of the stuff. Not having time to change, this is how my brother’s stand in sponsor arrived at the church.

Details about the game have long left my memory, but we did eventually win, and I remember making a good play, ending a scoring threat by the other team, preserving the tie. The events of later that evening are also a blur. All I can remember is my older sister telling the story of how comical dad looked, standing in front of the church, in his work clothes, with my brother was confirmed.

It’s been a little over a year since dad passed away. As I look back on that day, I wonder about his decision. Should he have made me leave the game and fulfill my duties as sponsor? I wonder how hard of a decision that was for him. However, he was able to solve a problem for both of his son’s that day. My brother did have a sponsor for his confirmation, and I was able to continue doing what I loved.