The Last Game

The Last Game

My son is about to play his final game of any organized sport.

I have been a dutiful parent, coached his teams a few times and even won Little League and Babe Ruth championships.

I have driven thousands of miles to watch him play and stayed in motels in NY, NJ, CT, PA, MA, VT, NH.

I sat on blankets, chairs, benches and bleachers no matter the weather conditions or the comfort level.

I spent countless dollars on camps, fees, uniforms, hats, gloves, bats, balls, jocks, books, dvds, cleats, sneakers, socks, shorts, sweatshirts and sweatpants.

But mostly, I watched and videotaped him play sports since he was 5 years old.

First t-ball, youth basketball, and youth soccer, then Little League Baseball, Babe Ruth Baseball, High School Basketball and Baseball, and now down to the wire after 4 years of College Basketball.

The results of his activities were impressive.

First string JV basketball point guard, as a Sophomore and Varsity as a Senior, and a trip to the State Finals in his Junior year.

First string IN/OF/Pitcher High School Baseball for 4 years and the 2
nd baseman on the State Championship team as a senior.

College basketball for a 5’7” point guard, a bush amongst trees, a David amongst Goliaths, was certainly challenging.



But in the end, there was nobody who played as hard with an overabundance of contagious energy and fiery spirit. Guaranteed to never leave anything on the court or the diamond, his unselfish, in your face, take no prisoners attitude, coupled with doing the little things that don’t show up in the statistics made him an indispensable asset to any team he played on, one who was admired and respected by his peers, and one was always a fan favorite.

And all this was coupled with academic success.
I often wondered where he found the time to do it all and when did he sleep?

So here it is, my son, the final game is near.

I am an emotional man, one who is known to cry at weddings, movies and passing thoughts.

As I sit here, alone, writing this tribute to you, I understand that I have been truly blessed.

This is essentially a thank you to you, my son, for filling my life with so much indescribable joy that it can never be repaid.

As we enter into a new and equally exciting phase of our father-son relationship, I wanted to relish this moment and tell you that I am proud of your accomplishments, I will forever be grateful to you for giving me the opportunity to sit in the stands, cheer your every moment, hug you after your losses, laugh with you after your wins, and most of all, giving me the honor of being your biggest fan.


Dennis Wayne Bressack
Woodstock, New York
February 8, 2016