THE FRONT ROW with Mark Nelke June 16, 2013

A friend lost their father recently.

That sucks pretty much ever day after that, but especially today.

For everyone who gets to spoil their dad today, there are many who wish they were able to still do that.

I HAVE friends who are their kids' best friends. They listen to the same music, watch the same generation of movies, share in pop culture references.

My dad liked country music; I was raised on late 1960s and '70s rock. I used to kid him, asking him why they even gave awards for that twangy-style music.

(Of course, he liked to wear pointed-toe boots and he controlled my allowance, so I didn't kid him a whole lot).

Then again, I would find myself watching a little bit of "Hee Haw," and spinning a few of his records by Buck Owens, or whoever, just to see what the commotion was.

THERE ARE kids who have parents who go to every single game they play, home or away, no matter how far away, no matter how big or small the game. Some have dads who make the sacrifice of working odd shifts so they can be in the stands when their kids are playing.

Hopefully, the kids appreciate that.

My dad didn't play a lot of basketball with us kids in the driveway, but every now and then, he would take a break from whatever work he was doing around the house and hoist up a few jumpers.

I used to wonder why his pants jingled when he shot. Years later, when I started drinking coffee with my buddies, it made sense, and I made sure to always have enough change on me for booth rent.

I OFTEN bite my tongue when I overhear some kid whining about their parents - no matter how bad it might seem to you, it could be much, much worse, kid. Much, much worse.

My only regret is that I wasn't able to soak up as much knowledge and wisdom from dad as I should have before he passed away. Then again, they don't teach you that stuff in school. And you usually don't get a warning.

So if you're one of the unfortunate to have lost their dad way too soon, take a moment to look back on that one memory with him that will bring a smile to your face when you otherwise feel a little sad.

For me - especially today, as I watch the final round of the U.S. Open - I'll always remember that my dad parred the final hole he ever played.

Mark Nelke is sports editor of The Press. He can be reached at 664-8176, Ext. 2019, or via email at [email protected]. Follow him on Twitter at CdAPressSports.