A Father’s Day salute: Thanks for making me a Cincinnati Reds fan

On this Father’s Day, I take a look back and give credit to my dad, who is the reason why I am a Cincinnati Reds baseball fan.

Wearing a red cap with a wishbone C covering my then-blonde hair, I once stood in the backyard of our home in Nashville, Tennessee in 1976 at two years old with a big red whiffle ball bat in hand as my dad, and personal hero, John Dismukes, threw pitches to me. From that day forward I suppose I didn’t have a choice but to be a fan of the game of baseball and a fan of  the Cincinnati Reds.

In the early 1980s, seeing baseball on television was rare. In addition to the rare NBC Game of the Week, occasionally a local station in Nashville would air Reds road games. In spite of the early 80s being a dark period of Reds baseball, the remnant of the Big Red Machine remained on those early 80s team.

My dad made sure I was well aware of the members and management during that era of Cincinnati Reds baseball. We always had the bond of baseball to bring us together, especially for those rare moments when Reds games were on television.

During the Summer of 1984, one of my uncles took me to see the Braves play the Phillies in Atlanta. The Braves won that day, but it was an underwhelming feeling. The first words out of my mouth later that evening to my dad was, “When can we go to a Reds game?”

My disappointment was apparent, and my dad put a plan in motion that would lead us to Riverfront Stadium to see my first Reds game on August 18, 1984; one night removed from Pete Rose‘s return to his hometown of Cincinnati.

While the Reds lost that 1984 game to their hated-rival, the Chicago Cubs, I still remember all the sights, sounds, and smells of walking into old Riverfront for the first time. We sat in left field in the green seats. I remember leaving that night disappointed in the loss.

On the way home, we listened to the postgame show on the radio, and being completely hooked on Cincinnati Reds baseball, with my dad being the key driver to this whole new world being opened up to me. We have attended countless Reds games since, including Game Two of the 1990 NLCS. Reds baseball continues to be the biggest catalyst of our father-son bonding.

Like many in Reds Country, the radio broadcast was a source of a lot of great memories through the years of my dad and I listening to Reds games over the air. Living in a north Nashville suburb, through the static, we could pick the games around the 5th inning. Marty and Joe just had a knack of creating such a vision of the game.

I remember being up well into the early morning hours with my dad listening to an extra-innings win against the Dodgers during one of those West Coast road trips. I heard many times about how, “when he was my age”, he would listen to games from old Crosley Field rooting on the likes of Frank Robinson, Vada Pinson, and Jim Maloney.

This past year as my dad approached 70-years old, he FINALLY decided to retire from his job that he had held since 1982. Wanting to do something nice for him, my wife and I decided that he and I would attend the Reds Fantasy Camp in Goodyear, Arizona in January.

He and I had not stood on baseball field together since the summer of 1991 when he was an assistant coach for my American Legion team. Of all the things my wife and I could have done for his retirement, we could not think of any better way to honor my dad.

Being in Goodyear, playing ball with my dad, meeting former Reds including greats such as Tommy Helms and Jim Maloney was a magical moment for us. There was one evening my dad and I were eating dinner when we noticed Jim Maloney and his wife, Lyn, sitting in the same restaurant.

Dad had already had a quick chat with Jim earlier in the week, but that evening at the Ruby Tuesday in Avondale, he sat and talked baseball with Jim for at least twenty minutes. The Maloneys were so gracious and kind. It was very satisfying to sit across the restaurant and watch my dad have this moment with Mr. Maloney.

The Cincinnati Reds Fantasy Camp experience reached a crescendo on the Friday afternoon as the campers played against the pro-players at Goodyear Ballpark. Each team got to play in a simulated three-inning game.

Pitching for our team, prior to the bottom of the first inning, I took a moment to step off the back of the mound and shouted out to my dad, who was playing second base. “Hey bub (one of our nicknames for each other), is this surreal or what?” Taking a moment to take it all in, we both had a laugh, then I promptly gave up several hits to former Reds players.

My dad is still in good health. He’s slowly segueing into retirement; off the road yet still working for American Airlines at the Nashville airport. He loves the airport, the airline industry, and all that environment has to offer.

We still talk Cincinnati Reds baseball almost daily. I am grateful to this organization as it has created a bond and many great memories for my dad and I that no one can take away. Happy Father’s Day Dad! You’re a great American, and this one belongs to the Reds!