There I was at my first Diamondbacks game. Five-year-old me trying to catch one of the balls coming our way. My dad was telling us to reach while me and my brother tried to grab one of the balls. One flew towards me. I tried to catch the ball but it flew too high, over our heads.

My dad was a big sports fan and he was taking me to a Diamondbacks game, with my older brother, Iziah. I was very excited because it was the first baseball game I had attended. There are other experiences with my dad I can almost fully remember. He once took me and my brother to a pool and when my brother jumped into the pool, he still had his phone in his pocket. I remember my brother having a feeling of regret. My dad quickly took us back to the apartment. Iziah ended up having put his phone in rice for a few days, thanks to my dad. These are some memories from my early childhood that connect me to him. I can say that I had a great relationship with my dad.

On April 26, 2016 - my birthday - I was walking to my dad’s house with my older brother. Earlier that day, my dad was supposed to take some snacks to my class for a party, but didn't. When we got to his house, the door was locked and when we knocked he didn’t answer.

Iziah and I went to the backdoor, and luckily it was unlocked, so we could get in. We went inside my dad's room and he was on his bed sleeping. Iziah and I tried to wake him up, but he didn’t wake up. After trying to wake him up for several minutes, we finally decided to just watch TV.

Soon after, my mom called my dad while my brother and I just watched as the phone rang, not picking it up. She rushed from work to my dad's house. When she got there, we told my mom that our dad wasn’t waking up, so she called the police. The police came and investigated. Eventually, they came out with the worst news in my life.

My dad. He was dead. I remember feeling overcome with a burst of sadness, anger, and confusion in my body. The only thing I could do was cry. There are no words to describe the pain I felt. I loved my dad so much, and in no time, he was taken away from us.

I spent days crying from the moment I woke up, thinking about my dad. The only three things to remember him by were a teddy bear, his hats, and a bike. The teddy bear I got from the firefighters that came to his house when he was announced dead. I got his four hats that he wore a lot: two blue baseball caps, one red baseball cap, and a black football cap. I remember being confused about what death was, and the only thing I understood is that I would never see him, talk to him, play with him, or be with him ever again.

I started playing sports soon after that. The reason I played sports is because it reminded me of my dad. He was a big sports fan. The sport I stuck to the most was basketball. When I played, it felt like all my problems went away and my only focus was my dad and the game. I put all my effort into the feeling I got from playing basketball. It helped me to overcome the feelings I had when my dad died. But most importantly, it reminded me of the shared passion we both had for sports. Even though we were passionate about different sports, it feels as if he is still connected through me from my love for sports.

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