‘Dear Dad, I know’: A Father’s Day letter from Patrick to Tony Resch

For as long as I can remember, when I meet someone tied to the sport of lacrosse, they hear my last name and deliver the same question and statement:

“Your dad is Tony Resch? He’s the best.”

It is a line I have heard more times than I can count, and it seems to be the consensus in the Lacrosse world, the Philadelphia world, and the World world.

My favorite part?

Everyone says it with a smile on their face, and the sentiment is genuine. There are no motives behind the words, nothing to be gained, just a heartfelt expression of appreciation for someone who has impacted so many lives in positive ways.

All I can say is, “I know,” because I do know. I know how lucky I am. I know how fortunate our family is. And I know everything in my life is a testament to my Dad’s love, support and example.

So, Dad, while you might not enjoy the public nature of this letter, I’d like to take a few minutes to explain to everyone why you are, in fact, the best.

Lacrosse has been ingrained in our family life for as long as I can remember, and some of my earliest and fondest memories are tied to the sport.

We grew up going to the Spectrum and the Center to watch you coach the Philadelphia Wings in one of the heydays of the NLL. It was surreal to see you lead the team in front of 15,000 raucous Philly fans, securing title after title for your home city. Of all the excitement — goals, fights, wins and losses — my most vivid memories are from after the game, when you would turn in a circle on the turf and always make sure to pick us out in the stands, to wave “I love you”.

Time stood still in those moments, the roaring crowd fell silent in my ears and it was just us in that big empty arena.

Now, when we go back to Wings games for alumni events, I have the privilege to talk to your former teammates, players and coaches, to hear about the glory days of lacrosse in Philadelphia.

Often, they are brought almost to tears explaining the opportunities you gave them. They talk about the respect with which you treated them, and the meaningful relationships developed that have thrived for decades. They all say the same thing to me:

“Your dad is the best.”

“I know.”

After the Wings era came to a close, I got to experience that coaching firsthand at La Salle, and we had the unique opportunity to add a coach-player dynamic to our father-son relationship.

I know this wasn’t the easiest situation for you to navigate, and I’m sure my teenage angst didn’t make it any smoother, as evidenced by some… spirited conversations during post-practice car rides home.

An eight-minute ride from school to Penn Oak Road can feel like a lifetime when you have one of the greatest coaches of all-time explaining how I could have more success shooting overhand than sidearm, even if it didn’t look as cool. Although I didn’t realize it at the time, those brief teachings helped me become a well-rounded player, and your extra attention gave me the tools to succeed on the field. More importantly, I look back on those years as some of the most meaningful of my life because of the time we spent together.

And by the time we put the car in park at home, the best Coach in the world flipped a switch to the best Dad in the world.

The lessons weren’t just about lacrosse, though. You taught me how to treat people with respect, to lead by example, to do things the right way when nobody was watching and how to approach adversity. When I was struggling to find a role on the football team before junior year, and ready to quit instead of grinding through another August of training camp, you wrote me a letter encouraging me to stick it out. You urged me to embrace the challenge of sacrifice and hard work without the gameday on-field reward, and to be a great teammate from the sideline.

The line that rings in my head to this day is: “Football is tough, and if you’re a sorta tough football player, you’ll be a really tough lacrosse player.”

That was all I needed to hear.

I don’t know if the toughness ever developed, but eventually I jumped at my opportunity to step on the field and won a state championship with a group of teammates that I still call some of my closest friends to this day.

You were right, as usual. Thank you for taking the time to show me the bigger picture beyond my narrow perspective.

And here we are now, Year 11 of my professional career and Year Forever of your professional career, still involved in the sport we love. Even when the Chaos and Archers match up, it doesn’t feel like we’re competing.

One reason is because we’re both on defense, and an ideal score would be a 1-0 victory for one team or the other. The other reason is because we’re living our dreams together, a little longer than I think either of us expected. And a lot longer than Julia or Mom expected.

Every weekend of the summer when lacrosse brings us together is a gift, and one of the reasons I continue to play is because it means more time spent with you.

Now that your grandson Warren is in our lives, I see you interact with him in your loving, caring, thoughtful nature that you have shown throughout my entire life. The best part is that I get to witness those interactions that we shared when I was his age, interactions I don’t remember but are ingrained in my being.

That joy is something that is impossible to put into words. The man I am today is because of you, and if I can be a fraction of the father to Warren that you are to me, he will be a lucky boy.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad. I love you.

You’re the best.

Patrick