Every child needs a hero. When I grew up, my hero was my dad. Before I would ever see Johnny Bench throw out a base runner, or watch Pete Rose get a hit, or cheer as Terry Bradshaw threw another touchdown pass, or watch with amazement as Franco Harris grabbed the immaculate reception. or took part in a Mylon Lefevre and Broken Heart or Stryper concert, my dad was my hero. I wanted to be like him. When he went to school, I got my books out so that I would look like him. I couldn’t wait each day until he picked me up from daycare! And the day I saw him working on the water fountain at my school, nothing could keep me from getting to him, not my teacher, not the gate fence, nothing. My dad taught me to have a