Happy Fathers Day

To all of the Dads here.

There is no role that can be - at various times - as satisfying, challenging, frustrating, humbling, prideful, scary and - ultimately - rewarding as being a parent.

(Reading that, it also kinda sounds like being a Razorback fan…but that’s another story, for another time, lol)


Back at ya Wiz,




Today I was reminded that their are biological fathers, fathers by choice and spiritual fathers. Thanks to all of those that fit the criteria. What a blessing/responsibility. Thanks dads.


I had a father by choice (adoption) and he taught me to love sports, especially baseball and the Hogs. He left a set of “post mortem” instructions. At the end of the list about who to contact, etc., he signed it “Go Hogs.”


I love hearing you talk about “daddy”. They are special. My mom left strict instructions post death with my wife. They were: make sure I’m dead when you bury me, make sure my lipstick matches my red dress and make sure my slip is not showing in the casket. Suzi made sure of all three.


Father’s Day always takes me back to Razorback stories my father used to tell me. He played on the 1946-1949 Barnhill teams. He was from Searcy and talked about on the rare occasions he went home that he would catch a ride with various teammates headed south or east, then they’d drop him off and he’d hitchhike the rest of the way to Searcy. Not sure what he’d think of the NIL, but he’d probably say it was only fair for the players to benefit from their sacrifices.

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I can’t say, for sure, but I’d bet dollars to donuts that your Dad (and Mom too, if she was at the U of A at the same time) knew my folks - who were also there during that period.

The University was so much smaller and the students and athletes co-mingled quite a bit. Those were the teams Clyde Scott, Muscles Campbell and Aubrey Fowler were on. I grew up hearing stories about those teams, which - along with Broyles’ then-current teams - were the legends that hooked me for life as a Razorback.

I know that Mom was a sorority sister of Leslie Hampton (a former Miss Arkansas, who married Clyde Scott). They went on a couple of double-dates together.

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Interesting bit of history.

I remember Muscles Campbell coming to our house when I was four or five years old. He would drink a beer and then crush it in his bare hand. It entertained me so much that he went around all night crushing everyone’s cans. This was back in the day before aluminum cans. Those old tin cans were tough.


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