Twenty years ago to the day my father past away. From all I knew he was a good man.

My old man's sport was basketball. I don't remember much of him but I do remember that. Every March I think he watched every single game in the NCAA Tournament. Then in May it was the NBA Playoffs. The few times I ever saw him shoot a ball, I remember being a very impressed five year old or however old I was, seeing the old fart do that. Years later I even found a newspaper clipping with a photo of him on the court while rummaging through his personal things.

Myself, I've always been pretty sucky at basketball. I was so young, basketball was never a father son thing for us. Although maybe he wanted to at some point, he never taught or showed me one thing about the game. Interestingly though, after he died, I did develop some uncanny ability to shoot the ball. By ten years old my jump shot could probably match any kid on the playground. It didn't really make much sense, I don't really know what to make of it, and I don't mean to imply anything about it either. Anyway, I was never much of a baller though, I didn't exactly have anyone to teach me, I never really had the confidence when playing in a game, and was slow to even pick up on the actual rules. I played sometimes and had some fun, but it was not my passion. Everyone else improved their shooting while my shot seemed to stay the same to this day. A good ten year old's shot is a pretty sucky one as an adult.

Interestingly it was shortly after he past that I began to develop an interest in racing. That interest would slowly develop into the passion I have today. As far as I know my father had no interest in racing. I don't know for sure what he would think of me racing, but I have my suspicions that he would probably not approve of it.

Of course I wonder sometimes how my life would be different if he was still around. Would the guy have taught me a thing or two about basketball? Would I have developed into a pretty decent player and developed a passion for the sport? It seems probable. If I developed a passion for basketball, would I have even cared about racing? I guess I'll never know.

I can't deny it, when I'm at the track and I see so many fathers teaching their sons the ropes and spending time together, I wonder what I missed out on. But that's OK. The way I look at it, I'm proud of who I am. And my experiences in life shaped me into who I am today. So I would never change a thing.

Rest in peace, Daddy. I hope I'm making you proud.