It happened...

It was a warm Father's Day, June 17th, 2007. We were in the upper deck enjoying a day at the old ball park. It was the bottom of the 6th inning. Theriot was up to bat. John was sitting on the end of the row next to my dad, my mom and I next to them. However this is where the story has very different endings depending on who you ask. John's version is that he saw the ball coming, a pop fly, one that was not going to get a way this time (last month at the game, he made contact with the ball, but it was out of his reach). He reached up, and slightly over, and there it was, in his bare hands, he held it up, kissed his wife, waved to the crowd in all it's glory. My dad's version...the ball was coming right at him...he felt the back of John's hands in his palm...his son-in-law stole his baseball right out of his hands...on Father's Day...