Thanksgiving weekend is a time to be thankful for a lot of things.

The blessings we have in our lives today are certainly among them.

So, too, are the blessings of our past.

Or, in my case, the blessings of my youth and sports.

Looking back, I am thankful for ...

n My father taking my brothers and myself to Forbes Field to watch the Pirates play. We sat in the left field bleachers for 75 cents.

Not being a big sports fan, Dad brought a novel with him to read while the game was being played. He'd glance up from his book when the crowd roared, just to see what was going on.

He wasn't into baseball, but he knew his kids were. I'm thankful for that.

• Playing Little League baseball for Ben Franklin 5 & 10, a team that finished 2-18 while losing games by scores of 56-0, 32-0 and 40-4.

Playing for that team made me realize I loved playing ball for the game, not the result. I'm thankful for that.

• Hillcrest Shopping Center finishing 0-20 that year. I'm thankful for that, too.

• Getting to experience what it felt like to hit a ball over the fence, sink a 3-pointer, score a touchdown and score a goal when I was a kid. I'm thankful for that.

• Striking out 22 times in 47 at-bats as a 12-year-old in Little League — I have no idea why I remember that — but delivering a two-out bases-loaded triple in the last inning to win a game for my team. I'm thankful for that.

• My mother allowing me to charge the mound and punch a kid who hit me with a pitch three at-bats in a row in one game. Not so proud, but I'm thankful for that.

• Playing pick-up tackle football for 15 years without a helmet, shoulder pads or other protective equipment and never getting injured. I'm thankful for that.

• Coming home from college and joining a first-year slow-pitch softball team that was winless in a prestigious league, pitching in my first game, winning a 7-6 decision and being hailed as the savior of the team.

That team won only six total games in the four seasons I played, but I'm thankful for that.

• For hitting 131 home runs one summer in pick-up sandlot baseball with less than five of them winding up in the creek behind the left field fence.

If you hit a ball in the creek, you ruined the ball — and you were out. I'm thankful for that.

• For gaining respect for women's athletics through personal experience. The fast-pitch softball pitcher at Ohio University struck me out on three pitches after I claimed she couldn't strike out a male.The pitcher blazed two fastballs past me before getting the third strike on a changeup that I swung at three times before it reached the plate.

I flipped the bat over my shoulder, glared at her laughing on the mound and said: "I can't believe you threw me a changeup."

She looked back at me, still laughing, and said: "I was feeling sorry for you. I can't believe you didn't hit it."

I'm thankful for that.

John Enrietto is sports editor of the Butler Eagle.