In the years I covered the Phillies, the memories of dads living and dead floated in the stale clubhouse air like watchful spirits.
The bond between father and son, so central to the sport's mythology, had given rise to virtually all their professional careers. And the dads of those mid-'90s Phillies were as varied as the players' personalities. There were gentle nurturers and cruel tyrants, absent fathers and those who hovered, tender men and some unable to express affection.
Not surprisingly, on those teams for whom macho was a much-used adjective, and for whom women were most often objectified as beef, you rarely heard a story about mom.