Tim Ellsworth

Dear Daniel: Lessons from an unknown horse

June 20th, 2006

Dear Daniel,

I recently read a new book by Dorothy Ours in which she writes about a race horse named Fair Play. He was a fine thoroughbred in the early 1900s – one of the best in the United States at the time, although he never was able to beat his archrival, Colin.

Fair Play’s owner, August Belmont, took him to England once to match him against some of the best horses in the world. But Fair Play didn’t fare well on British soil. He grew more and more foul-tempered while in England and in six races never finished in the top three.

Fair Play never achieved lasting fame on the track. After the unsuccessful jaunt to England, his racing career was over – but Fair Play wasn’t finished as a horse. He returned home to Kentucky, and in what I thought was the most memorable line of the book, Ours writes, “There he would father a colt more brilliant than himself.”

That colt he sired was the mighty Man o’ War – the subject of Ours’ book and the greatest thoroughbred in history. In 21 career races, Man o’ War won 20 of them. The only race he didn’t win, he finished second. He won one race by 100 lengths and set all kinds of records. One time, he went off at odds of 1-100 (meaning it would take a $100 bet to win $1). There’s never been another horse like him, and there may never be.

So Fair Play’s greatest accomplishment in life and his greatest contribution to the world wasn’t as a race horse. It was as a father.

You turn 3 years old in just a few days, and over the past three years, I’ve thought a lot about fatherhood. One of my dreams for you, and one of my goals as a father, is captured in that line from Ours’ book. I dearly want you to grow up to be superior to me in every way.

I think a lot of fathers are either competitive with their children, or they are more interested in their own selfish pursuits than they are in teaching and molding their kids. That’s something I’ll never understand. What I do understand is my desire for you to be a better person than I am. Your welfare and growth is a higher priority to me than my own fulfillment or my own convenience.

Many times, that means I have to put down the book I’m dying to read because a little boy is dying for his daddy to read to him. Often it means I have to turn off the baseball game I want to watch because a little boy wants his daddy to play baseball with him.

Sometimes I think these are small sacrifices to make – but then I conclude that they’re not sacrifices at all. They are simply investments in the future. Thirty years from now it won’t matter if I missed a baseball game or had to delay reading some book that I’ll probably not remember anyway.

What will be important is if I gave you every bit of time and attention I could. What will be important is how you have developed as an individual, and whether I did my utmost to prepare you for life.

I want you to be more intelligent and better educated than I. I want you to be more loving and compassionate. I want you to be less prideful and more encouraging to others. I want you to love God more fully.

No matter what I may achieve in this life, I dearly desire to be a father who will spur you on to greatness. Fair Play’s colt surpassed his father in every way. Few remember what kind of a race horse Fair Play was, but his son, Man o’ War, has gone down in history. I’d be perfectly content if the only way history remembered me was as Daniel Ellsworth’s father. In fact, nothing would bring me more joy.

Love always,
Dad

6 Responses to “Dear Daniel: Lessons from an unknown horse”

  1. Chuck says:

    Amen!!!!!!!! Nice insight Tim.

  2. Bob M. says:

    Tim…….Tim……..Tim…………(wiping away tears)

    It is in these essays to your son that you demonstrate not only your writing talent, but your Godly character and love for your family. You have indeed been blessed. Treasure and cherish Daniel as the gift from God that he is to you and your wife.

  3. Scott Gladin says:

    Hey Tim, I’m sure you already do something like I’m about to say, but I figure I’ll suggest it anyway. If I were you I’d be sure to keep an extra copy or two of these letters in a notebook somewhere to give to Daniel some day when he is older. I think it would mean a lot to him - especially after he gets married one day and makes you Grandpa Tim.
    Well, now that I’ve sent you into shock looking into the future - good letter.

  4. Jason says:

    You know Scott… (and I’m sure Tim agrees) there’s something to your point that as a father, we want to teach our children the things we’ve learned over the (many or few) years of our existance. It’s unfortunately that our sinful nature usually leads us to ignore this sage advice; we’d rather experience things on our own. However, there’s a day, at least in my case, when I realized how utterly brilliant the simple man of my father is. It is for that reason that I asked my Dad to begin journaling. Write down the stories of his life. Record the tales that are a mixture of his experience and his ability to spin a good yarn. Unfortunatly, as a child I tired of hearing the same cop/prison guard stories or “we were so poor” laments. Now, I’d give anything for them. The journals and the recordings (into a microcassette converted to CDs by one of our own - Jeremy) are invalueable to me (if no one else).

    It’s for that reason, in part, that I blog (today’s journaling). I pray that the Bible study and lessons I prepare and post along with the commentaries I create in some way strengthen my sons’ relationships to Christ, and to a lesser degree, they understand a bit more about me.

  5. Scott Gladin says:

    Hm - very cool.

  6. Tim says:

    Thanks, guys.