As I sit here writing, I was reflecting on this past Sunday, Father’s Day, and the influence we father’s have on our children’s love of sports.

Before we get into a debate over the importance of sports, let me say, the number one thing I hope to pass on to my kids is my faith and love of God. I also think there are other things we teach our children that add to our bond, and sports is one of those.

My father, an Italian immigrant, didn’t really grow up playing or watching sports, much in Italy. His father died when he was only nine, so he went to work at a young age. The only sport he really knew was soccer.

After coming to the U.S., my father began watching and enjoying baseball, and now he will watch almost any sport if he’s interested, although he doesn’t follow any sports on a regular basis. However, it was my father who took my friend Tim Giambra and me to our first Major League Baseball game in Pittsburgh. He also took my friend John Larson and me to our first NFL game in Buffalo. After a snowy, cold day, he swore to never do that again.

It was my dad who took me to see the Harlem Globetrotters in person the first time in 1979, and from then until I went to work for the team in 2012, I saw the Globetrotters in person 26 times.

Although he was not a big sports fan, he didn’t try to steer me away from sports, but instead encouraged me to play, coach and officiate in whatever sports I wanted to participate. He worked two jobs and couldn’t always attend all those games over the years, but it never bothered me; I understood. He made as many games as he could. Even when I was away from home, playing soccer at ORU, I would call him after each game to let him know how I did.

It was my father who loaned me $50 to have my first mascot costume made (named “Yippee!”), and I went on to be a minor league baseball and basketball mascot for nine years. Tulsans may remember the Fast Breakers mascot “Bubby Breaker!”

So, although my father wasn’t an athlete, he had a big influence on my love of sports. In turn, I believe I’ve passed some of that on to my two children. My son attended his first Tulsa Drillers baseball game when he was a week old. I was the Baseball Chapel coordinator at the time, so I guess I had to be there that day, but my wife and son were also at the game on that Sunday in May, 1991.

A year and a half later, when I was broadcasting the Tulsa Oilers games (1992-93 season), my son would sit with my wife in the stands and he learned to yell, “Sieve!” at the opposing goalie when the Oilers scored, and wave his foam hockey stick just like the rest of the fans.

I was an assistant coach for my son’s baseball teams, from tee ball through youth leagues, and I helped coach both of my kids’ soccer teams for all the years they played. I took my kids to their first NHL game in North Carolina, their first NBA game in Phoenix, and to a couple MLS soccer matches, in Kansas City and Dallas. Of course, I was the one who introduced them to seeing the Harlem Globetrotters in person each year, and for my daughter and me, that’s still an annual tradition.

My daughter has become quite a hockey fan, and we enjoy going to Oilers games together as well as watching NHL games on television.

My son is the father of a three-year-old daughter, so now I’m excited to see how his love of sports will be passed down to her.

Is a love of sports the most important thing we can teach our children? Of course not, but it is important when you think of the shared interest, commonality and time together. It gives us some great memories and cherished time spent together over the years, and if that’s what sports has done to bring us closer together, than it’s extremely important, at least to me.