Periodically browsing through the POW WOW posts here on tradgang I see posts of Fathers and relatives who are passing down their love of traditional archery to the youth in their lives. I’m here today to tell the other side of the story.
I grew up in rural KS and was one of the blessed kids in the world to have an amazing dad. From the time I can remember, he was always taking me hunting, fishing, and teaching me how to become a man. It didn’t take long for his love for traditional archery to take hold deep in my soul. Shooting bows and hunting was always our greatest connection, but not our only one.
We also had many great times throughout my baseball career. One of my favorite memories was when I was with the Tigers and dad came down on the field when we defeated the Yankees to win the ALCS in 2012. His eyes were as wide as mine watching a big buck come in haha. 50,000 screaming fans was a lot to digest for a small town, blue collar, country boy. Still, at the end of the day it was simply hunting and bows. That’s what we lived, breathed, and loved.
In March of 2014 I had to have my first back surgery, years of swinging bats and bucking bails took its toll. After tons of rehab and hard work my back never recovered enough to play. It was a tough blow, but that’s life and they let me go home in late September. My wife and I spent a few days in Detroit with her family then we drove straight though and got back to Kansas Saturday morning October 4th.
After a few hours of sleep I was up and around excited to hangout with Mom and Dad and start getting my archery gear together. The whole day Dad and I hung out shooting bows, talking about hunting and life. We even went out with my sister’s kids and brother in-law to put up a tree stand. I was mainly pointing fingers like a foreman with a bad back should haha.
As it got late Dad and I talked about our deer hunting strategies for the season like we have done a million times. He dosed off in his chair like always and I went to bed for the night. I didn’t know it, but it would be our last talk. I’m tearing up thinking about it. The next morning Sunday October 5th Dad went to his final home unexpectedly. After all the chaos of the ambulance and hospital, I was in shock and devastated. I had lost my best friend, mentor, hunting buddy, and role model.
It took me a bit to pick up a bow and think about that deer season, but I knew what he would want me to do. With some encouragement from my brother I strung up his old bighorn recurve. It was the bow he had shot for most of his life. I used it last season in his honor and would spend hours in the stand reminiscing on how many amazing times we had.
That last day with dad could not have been anymore perfect and I thank God for giving it to me. There is something seriously special about bowhunting. Call it primal, call it connecting with nature, call it whatever you want. For me it’s indescribable. Its part of my soul, its who I am, and there is a deep rooted connection with others who feel it.
So this is to all of you who take the time and make the sacrifice to pass on what you love to the youngsters. It may go unappreciated now, but I am here to tell you for them in advance. THANK YOU! My wife and I are expecting our first kid in about a month. Guess what? It’s a boy! God works in mysterious ways, and I can’t wait to do all the things with him that my dad did with me.
The buck I shot that season with dad's bow.