My dad always didreally great things to me.
For me, not to me.
We're not doing that oneright now.
My dad always didreally great things for me
when I was growing up,but he always did
kind of mean thingsalong the way.
I think he thoughtthey were funny, like, uh...
When I was in first grade,my dad to took me
to my firstMajor League Baseball game.
I grew up in New Hampshire,so we used to go to Fenway Park.
(applause)All right. Yep.
Every other baseball park sucks.
When I was in first grade,my dad took me to go see
Boston Red Soxversus California Angels.
Roger Clemens pitchingversus Jim Abbott--
the one-handed pitcher, right?
Doesn't get any better than that
when you're in first grade.
We made a sign together, uh,
"Two handsor get the (bleep) out."
And uh... (chuckles)
On the way to Fenway Park,
my dad pulled over
into an abandoned high schoolbaseball field,
and he goes,
"Oh, look at that.
"We're going home."
And I cried. I cried so much.
That's a terrible trick to playon a first-grader,
but while I was crying,
my dad just drove to the game,
and we had a great time.
So when I was older,I asked my dad,
"Why did you do that?
"Were you trying to teach mea lesson?
"Were you trying to teach methat even when
"there's great things in life,
sometimes there's shitty thingsalong the way?"
And my dad just goes,"No, me and your mom
"just thought it was funny
'cause you used to cryabout everything."
Yeah, he's the one clappingin the back right there.
That's good.He's the one who's going,
"Yeah, I did that."
He thinks it's really funny,but guess what?
I didn't go to grad school,and I'm doing this instead,
and it's because of you.