I don’t usually feel sorry for President Obama but I confess I did just a little when he threw out a first pitch a few weeks ago.

It was pitiful and frankly, quite girly.

It reminded me of my little league days. If a boy threw a baseball like a girl living it down would have taken years if ever. If you’ve seen the movie Sandlot you know exactly what I mean.

I remember well my dad coming home from work and while mom made supper he and I would play catch. Learning to “zing” the baseball was part of the training. I can still hear dad saying, “not like that, like this” because this is how boys throw!

It was the same for all the boys in the hood I grew up in, working class Catholic and Lutherans mostly and yeah, they all got along quite well.

We all had fathers in the home and most were WW2 veterans and most loved baseball as well as their sons and most wanted to raise them right.

They spent time with their sons, working hard to give them a life most of them did not have because they were children of the Depression.

No, it was not a perfect time but certainly traditional family values were more the norm than they are now.

I learned more than how to throw a baseball from my dad.

I learned the importance of work, having a job, and commitment, commitment to my mom when she had a nervous breakdown. Dad never wavered although he was plenty frustrated.

Their wedding vows meant something and in later years dad was a rock in a very difficult situation.

I do not underestimate his example in my life and maybe that’s why I had a tinge of sympathy for the President when he threw out that baseball. His father was a Kenyan leftist radical and his influence on his son is all too apparent.

Thanks dad for teaching me to throw a baseball.