dilloduck
Diamond Member
I'd post a pic of me and my kid at 3 but I'm holding his head under water.
Last edited:
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My favorite picture of my son and I....
- Thread starter necritan
- Start date
X - another great shot. Does your little boy have Mickey ears on his hat?
Because he is wearing a Mickey Mouse hat.
I thought this picture was fitting for Father's Day.
This was a couple years ago....my son wanted to go explore for fish in the stream at the campground. The water was snow run off in the Sierra's....very cold. You can see the goggles on his head in the picture...so cute...I cherish the moments like that.
They are awfully sweet at that age. You should put a warning on this thread for diabetics.
They are awfully sweet at that age. You should put a warning on this thread for diabetics.
That warning would really only be applicable for diabetic cannibals.
They are awfully sweet at that age. You should put a warning on this thread for diabetics.
That warning would really only be applicable for diabetic cannibals.
Now those are two words that I've never seen put together till now. LOL.
Not exactly my son and I, but the favorite picture I ever took of my son (blonde hair, age 6). In fact, I love that night so much I wrote a poem about it. Both are below. I still get a little misty thinking about it. Hopefully I always will.
I don't often get back to Michigan, at most maybe once a year
I've lived in Britain since '98 and The CoPa's a long way from here.
But in August last year (2006) we came over for a 3 week stay
To visit my in-laws, and while we were there we saw the Tigers play.
On a brilliant Sunday with several friends, and my daughter, my son and my wife
Detroit beat The Tribe in the very first ball game my son had seen in his life
They were giving out Pudge bats to kids that day, and Tom still has his at home
And later that week I went out and bought him the very first mitt of his own.
He wasn't sure which hand to wear it on, but wanted to give it a try
So I taught him to get down behind a ground ball, and use both hands to catch a pop fly.
We watched all the Tigers games live on Fox, and Sportscenter for all the best plays
And I told him all about great former players such as Ty Cobb, and Gehrig and Mays.
Then as we were watching TWIB one day he said to me out of the blue
"Dad, can we go see the Tigers again, but this time just me and you?"
There weren't many days left until we went home but I said that I'd try just the same.
And managed to get us a couple of tix for the Thursday night Rangers game.
As we drove downtown on I-75 he just couldn't sit still in his seat
And he talked about Pudge (his favorite player) and of Zumaya bringing the heat.
We arrived just in time for Rangers BP and found a spot by the wall
Where we both put out mitts on and patiently waited for our chance to catch a fly ball.
I'd told him that once, a long time ago, I'd caught a home run at a game
And also that catching a ball was quite rare, but he wanted to try just the same.
After 25 minutes we'd had no luck at all so I said "Shall we go to the store?"
"We can but you a cap" but he looked up and said "Can we wait just a few minutes more?"
So we stood by the wall near the foul pole in right with all the hits going to left
But Tom wouln't budge and he stared towards home with his mitt clutched tight to his chest.
Then a lefty came up and I hoped and I prayed that maybe just once he would pull it
And just at that second he turned on a pitch and it lined towards right like a bullet.
It started out looking like going to our right, but then began curving a lot
And I knew from it's flight it was going to be close and that this would be our only shot
Loud cries of "INCOMING" came from behind but no way would I let this one drop
I reached out my arm above my son's head and the ball hit my mitt with a pop.
Tom spun around quickly and stared at the seats to see where the missile had gone
And was ready to charge off to look for his prize until he heard me say "Hey, Tom!"
He stared up at me and I'll never forget that look of pride and love
As I held out my hand with the baseball in it and dropped it into his glove.
Shouts of "Nice catch Dad" came from all round and Tom's grin was about a mile wide
And as long as I live I'll always remember and get kind of choked up inside
That wonderful night when Tom got his ball, and to cap it all off the Tigs won!
I could not have dreamed of a more perfect night at the ballpark with Thomas, my son.
I don't often get back to Michigan, at most maybe once a year
I've lived in Britain since '98 and The CoPa's a long way from here.
But in August last year (2006) we came over for a 3 week stay
To visit my in-laws, and while we were there we saw the Tigers play.
On a brilliant Sunday with several friends, and my daughter, my son and my wife
Detroit beat The Tribe in the very first ball game my son had seen in his life
They were giving out Pudge bats to kids that day, and Tom still has his at home
And later that week I went out and bought him the very first mitt of his own.
He wasn't sure which hand to wear it on, but wanted to give it a try
So I taught him to get down behind a ground ball, and use both hands to catch a pop fly.
We watched all the Tigers games live on Fox, and Sportscenter for all the best plays
And I told him all about great former players such as Ty Cobb, and Gehrig and Mays.
Then as we were watching TWIB one day he said to me out of the blue
"Dad, can we go see the Tigers again, but this time just me and you?"
There weren't many days left until we went home but I said that I'd try just the same.
And managed to get us a couple of tix for the Thursday night Rangers game.
As we drove downtown on I-75 he just couldn't sit still in his seat
And he talked about Pudge (his favorite player) and of Zumaya bringing the heat.
We arrived just in time for Rangers BP and found a spot by the wall
Where we both put out mitts on and patiently waited for our chance to catch a fly ball.
I'd told him that once, a long time ago, I'd caught a home run at a game
And also that catching a ball was quite rare, but he wanted to try just the same.
After 25 minutes we'd had no luck at all so I said "Shall we go to the store?"
"We can but you a cap" but he looked up and said "Can we wait just a few minutes more?"
So we stood by the wall near the foul pole in right with all the hits going to left
But Tom wouln't budge and he stared towards home with his mitt clutched tight to his chest.
Then a lefty came up and I hoped and I prayed that maybe just once he would pull it
And just at that second he turned on a pitch and it lined towards right like a bullet.
It started out looking like going to our right, but then began curving a lot
And I knew from it's flight it was going to be close and that this would be our only shot
Loud cries of "INCOMING" came from behind but no way would I let this one drop
I reached out my arm above my son's head and the ball hit my mitt with a pop.
Tom spun around quickly and stared at the seats to see where the missile had gone
And was ready to charge off to look for his prize until he heard me say "Hey, Tom!"
He stared up at me and I'll never forget that look of pride and love
As I held out my hand with the baseball in it and dropped it into his glove.
Shouts of "Nice catch Dad" came from all round and Tom's grin was about a mile wide
And as long as I live I'll always remember and get kind of choked up inside
That wonderful night when Tom got his ball, and to cap it all off the Tigs won!
I could not have dreamed of a more perfect night at the ballpark with Thomas, my son.
Not exactly my son and I, but the favorite picture I ever took of my son (blonde hair, age 6). In fact, I love that night so much I wrote a poem about it. Both are below. I still get a little misty thinking about it. Hopefully I always will.
I don't often get back to Michigan, at most maybe once a year
I've lived in Britain since '98 and The CoPa's a long way from here.
But in August last year (2006) we came over for a 3 week stay
To visit my in-laws, and while we were there we saw the Tigers play.
On a brilliant Sunday with several friends, and my daughter, my son and my wife
Detroit beat The Tribe in the very first ball game my son had seen in his life
They were giving out Pudge bats to kids that day, and Tom still has his at home
And later that week I went out and bought him the very first mitt of his own.
He wasn't sure which hand to wear it on, but wanted to give it a try
So I taught him to get down behind a ground ball, and use both hands to catch a pop fly.
We watched all the Tigers games live on Fox, and Sportscenter for all the best plays
And I told him all about great former players such as Ty Cobb, and Gehrig and Mays.
Then as we were watching TWIB one day he said to me out of the blue
"Dad, can we go see the Tigers again, but this time just me and you?"
There weren't many days left until we went home but I said that I'd try just the same.
And managed to get us a couple of tix for the Thursday night Rangers game.
As we drove downtown on I-75 he just couldn't sit still in his seat
And he talked about Pudge (his favorite player) and of Zumaya bringing the heat.
We arrived just in time for Rangers BP and found a spot by the wall
Where we both put out mitts on and patiently waited for our chance to catch a fly ball.
I'd told him that once, a long time ago, I'd caught a home run at a game
And also that catching a ball was quite rare, but he wanted to try just the same.
After 25 minutes we'd had no luck at all so I said "Shall we go to the store?"
"We can but you a cap" but he looked up and said "Can we wait just a few minutes more?"
So we stood by the wall near the foul pole in right with all the hits going to left
But Tom wouln't budge and he stared towards home with his mitt clutched tight to his chest.
Then a lefty came up and I hoped and I prayed that maybe just once he would pull it
And just at that second he turned on a pitch and it lined towards right like a bullet.
It started out looking like going to our right, but then began curving a lot
And I knew from it's flight it was going to be close and that this would be our only shot
Loud cries of "INCOMING" came from behind but no way would I let this one drop
I reached out my arm above my son's head and the ball hit my mitt with a pop.
Tom spun around quickly and stared at the seats to see where the missile had gone
And was ready to charge off to look for his prize until he heard me say "Hey, Tom!"
He stared up at me and I'll never forget that look of pride and love
As I held out my hand with the baseball in it and dropped it into his glove.
Shouts of "Nice catch Dad" came from all round and Tom's grin was about a mile wide
And as long as I live I'll always remember and get kind of choked up inside
That wonderful night when Tom got his ball, and to cap it all off the Tigs won!
I could not have dreamed of a more perfect night at the ballpark with Thomas, my son.
Nice poem and nice pic. Great seats!
Unfortunately our seats were 3 rows back. Still good, but if we'd stayed at the wall we'd have had another ball during the game. As it was the putz sitting there spilled it back into foul territory. Who gets front row seats and doesn't bring a glove????
necritan
Liberals are retarded
- Thread starter
- #29
If you don't mind me continuing the theme of photos of father's holding son's hands while they put their feet in cold water...
here's me and my son (3 years old) dipping our feet into the Maine ocean in July.
Thats really cool.....I love bein a dad too.
necritan
Liberals are retarded
- Thread starter
- #30
Unfortunately our seats were 3 rows back. Still good, but if we'd stayed at the wall we'd have had another ball during the game. As it was the putz sitting there spilled it back into foul territory. Who gets front row seats and doesn't bring a glove????
Wonderful recollection of memories....great poem. These moments seem so fleeting.....what a wonderful way to capture the moment in words.
Zoom-boing
Platinum Member
X - another great shot. Does your little boy have Mickey ears on his hat?
Because he is wearing a Mickey Mouse hat.
I figured as much, just wasn't sure from the angle of the pic.
- May 20, 2009
- 23,425
- 8,069
- 890
Quote: Originally Posted by necritan
I thought this picture was fitting for Father's Day.
This was a couple years ago....my son wanted to go explore for fish in the stream at the campground. The water was snow run off in the Sierra's....very cold. You can see the goggles on his head in the picture...so cute...I cherish the moments like that.
Great picture! Thanks for sharing...
X - another great shot. Does your little boy have Mickey ears on his hat?
Because he is wearing a Mickey Mouse hat.
I figured as much, just wasn't sure from the angle of the pic.
I guess it was either that, or some nasty tumor on his skull, right?
Not exactly my son and I, but the favorite picture I ever took of my son (blonde hair, age 6). In fact, I love that night so much I wrote a poem about it. Both are below. I still get a little misty thinking about it. Hopefully I always will.
I don't often get back to Michigan, at most maybe once a year
I've lived in Britain since '98 and The CoPa's a long way from here.
But in August last year (2006) we came over for a 3 week stay
To visit my in-laws, and while we were there we saw the Tigers play.
On a brilliant Sunday with several friends, and my daughter, my son and my wife
Detroit beat The Tribe in the very first ball game my son had seen in his life
They were giving out Pudge bats to kids that day, and Tom still has his at home
And later that week I went out and bought him the very first mitt of his own.
He wasn't sure which hand to wear it on, but wanted to give it a try
So I taught him to get down behind a ground ball, and use both hands to catch a pop fly.
We watched all the Tigers games live on Fox, and Sportscenter for all the best plays
And I told him all about great former players such as Ty Cobb, and Gehrig and Mays.
Then as we were watching TWIB one day he said to me out of the blue
"Dad, can we go see the Tigers again, but this time just me and you?"
There weren't many days left until we went home but I said that I'd try just the same.
And managed to get us a couple of tix for the Thursday night Rangers game.
As we drove downtown on I-75 he just couldn't sit still in his seat
And he talked about Pudge (his favorite player) and of Zumaya bringing the heat.
We arrived just in time for Rangers BP and found a spot by the wall
Where we both put out mitts on and patiently waited for our chance to catch a fly ball.
I'd told him that once, a long time ago, I'd caught a home run at a game
And also that catching a ball was quite rare, but he wanted to try just the same.
After 25 minutes we'd had no luck at all so I said "Shall we go to the store?"
"We can but you a cap" but he looked up and said "Can we wait just a few minutes more?"
So we stood by the wall near the foul pole in right with all the hits going to left
But Tom wouln't budge and he stared towards home with his mitt clutched tight to his chest.
Then a lefty came up and I hoped and I prayed that maybe just once he would pull it
And just at that second he turned on a pitch and it lined towards right like a bullet.
It started out looking like going to our right, but then began curving a lot
And I knew from it's flight it was going to be close and that this would be our only shot
Loud cries of "INCOMING" came from behind but no way would I let this one drop
I reached out my arm above my son's head and the ball hit my mitt with a pop.
Tom spun around quickly and stared at the seats to see where the missile had gone
And was ready to charge off to look for his prize until he heard me say "Hey, Tom!"
He stared up at me and I'll never forget that look of pride and love
As I held out my hand with the baseball in it and dropped it into his glove.
Shouts of "Nice catch Dad" came from all round and Tom's grin was about a mile wide
And as long as I live I'll always remember and get kind of choked up inside
That wonderful night when Tom got his ball, and to cap it all off the Tigs won!
I could not have dreamed of a more perfect night at the ballpark with Thomas, my son.
Great shot and touching poem. As little appreciation that I have for baseball, you still pulled a tear from my eyes with that prose. Good one and you're a great Dad!
If you don't mind me continuing the theme of photos of father's holding son's hands while they put their feet in cold water...
here's me and my son (3 years old) dipping our feet into the Maine ocean in July.
Nice shot but the Atlantic is on the wrong side.
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