Hello everyone. As always, thanks for spending some time with me, today.
As today is Father’s Day, I would like to first say happy Father's Day to all the dads out there. Also, make sure you call them and do the same.
My father was a very special man to me. He has helped me to learn kindness, good values, and taught me patience.
He was a hard working man who never complained about working long hours and sometimes having to work two or three jobs at a time.
When I was young, I didn’t get to see him much and this would always hurt me. Knowing what I know now though, I thank God every day he was in my life.
My dad has given me a lot of things over the years things like good advise, love when needed, shelter, just to mention a few.
One of the things he gave me that I treasure the most is pro wrestling. To this day we share this passion together. We still go to shows together, we heckle the wrestlers and cheer when the action is hot.
I would like to share with you people the story of how my father gave me this gift.
I dedicate this article to my father. I love you with all my heart and always will. Happy Father's Day dad, you are a great one.
In 1981, I was six years old. Both my parents were in the military so we traveled a lot. Well, our ventures at that time had us in Greenville, South Carolina. It was there my uncle and dad took me to my first wrestling match. The only memories I have of it was that it was smoky and smelled bad in the arena.
I knew I was hooked after seeing a pair of future legends go at it. Come to find out those guys were Ric Flair and Dory Funk Jr.; I still have the programs to prove it.
I will be honest, the only two guys I remember were Jack Veneno and Harley Race and that's only because they were two of my dad’s favorites. It would be the beginning, in my young life, to a long run as a wrestling fan.
We moved to Maryland in late 1982. At this point, my mom and I had an all-out war. She hated wrestling and thought it would be a bad influence on me. So, needless to say, I wasn't allowed to watch it at all.
The only time I got to watch wrestling was at my friend’s house so I wouldn't get caught.
She may have thought she won the war, but to my surprise I had a secret source—my dad. You see, my dad was home more often being stationed in Maryland. So many times he would sneak me home the latest issues of the wrestling magazines. It was then my eyes were really opened.
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