There is an expectation with each of my monthly columns.
I tell a story and hope that in relaying an experience, I make someone - outside of my mother - laugh. I'm pointing this out because of my latest revelation: God is a baseball fan.
I know there are Pittsburgh Steelers fans who will argue with me on that, but hear me out because I have my two boys as proof.
A few weeks ago, I got to coach my boys in their final Pee Wee Minor League game in Hollidaysburg. Because of circumstances, work and scheduling, being their head coach at the next level will be impossible.
On the day of their final game, my wife, Ann Marie, was teasing me because she knew I would end up making myself cry if I thought about it too much, and with my flare for the dramatic, the anthem of "There is no crying in baseball" becomes "There is no sobbing in baseball" for me.
We got the top of the first inning in before the skies opened up. The game was eventually rained out. Because it was the last game of the season, there was no chance of making it up. Because I don't always see the big picture, I was kind of mad at the big guy upstairs for letting it rain.
As I gathered up the equipment, it hit me that my two boys accounted for all three outs in the first inning.
My last memory of being their manager was of a pretty decent double play pulled off by the two of them - a nice catch by Vincent at second and an even nicer scoop for the out by Dominic at first.
And my wife was right because I teared up heading to the car. However, it was still raining, which made for some terrific camouflage for me. My boys always get a kick out of watching me cry at movies, and Cory Giger still laughs at me for weeping at the end of "Con Air."
Thankfully, I was able to sneak this burst of emotion past my sons.
Want more proof of God appreciating baseball as a family sport?
We took the boys to their first Pirates game last week. It was against the Marlins on a day in which it rained the entire drive over to Pittsburgh. We got there at 5 p.m., and it stopped. And it did not rain the entire game.
Even though Vincent roots for the Marlins - don't ask ... or better yet, don't judge - the Pirates' win did not spoil the night for them.
And get this, it rained on the way back to Hollidaysburg.
I actually prayed for the game to be played, though I didn't think it would happen because of weather reports that day on the Internet.
God, however, must have been working with the weatherman from KDKA; my mother informed me that he said that the game would be played despite the forecast.
Now that this has been documented in the Mirror, I would love to send this column off to the Vatican for confirmation of a true miracle.
Let's hope the pope is reading mlb.com when it arrives, which would go a long way in proving my case.
Scott Franco is a member of the Altoona Mirror sports staff, a husband and a father of four. He can be reached at 946-7528 or email@example.com.