Blake Snow

writer-for-hire, content guy, bestselling author

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Tagged my dad

An open letter to my dead father

My dad with my oldest sister Cami

Dear, Dad.

Although you’re technically dead, I still believe you’re alive somewhere. After all, you taught me to believe in an afterlife, and I still do. So thanks for putting me on the path of faith, moral redemption, and hope after death. And for doing it in a way that was never dogmatic but wise and open to the possibility that you didn’t really know. I respect that immensely.

It’s been two years since you died. I read years ago that it’s healthier to say “die” instead of the more ambiguous “passed” or “no longer with us.” So if I sound harsh, it’s for good reason. No sense beating around the bush. You’re dead. I miss you. End of story.

I don’t know if you can hear this. I’m guessing not, because I’m not comfortable with the idea of being watched, listened to, or otherwise spied on by the deceased. We all need our privacy, right!? But I hope if there is a way, you still get this message. Continue reading…

What I learned from Anger Management class

Credit: Columbia Pictures

Credit: Columbia Pictures

I’ve successfully completed two rounds of therapy. I say “successfully” because the first (marriage counseling) saved my marriage after a checkered first year. The second (anger management) helped me harness my emotions.

Like Wreck-It-Ralph, my passion bubbles very near the surface. I’ve known this since adolescence. But I didn’t know how to manage it until group therapy. This is that story.

Continue reading…

My Dad on being a great basketball shooter

hoosiers_new-subsample

I wish I could have seen my Dad play basketball.

My uncle tells me he was a phenomenal shooter, regularly putting up 30+ points a night against amateur competition. My old man reputedly scored 50 points in a single half of intramural college ball once (!).

More impressive from a precision standpoint, he shot 50 consecutive free throws at my neighbor’s house when I was a boy. He stopped before missing his first shot so he could get home “for supper,” he says. Talk about ending on a high note.

Marveling at other great shooters this year, including Jimmer Fredette, whom I’ve watched at close range, I asked my Dad what it takes to be a great percentage shooter. His reply:

“It is a combination of natural and great physical skill, thousands of hours of practice and playing, and the ability after reaching a certain point of physical excellence to take your mind out of shooting and letting your body do it! That’s the groove that is spoken of. Not very many reach the ‘groove’ consistently. When it happens, it is like heaven on earth.”

High five, pops!