AG/DC: that is true, but I find the relationship between the two to be fascinating. The fact that Tim forgave Tug, and was there for the last years of his life, is a wonderful story. It would be nice if Tim was there tonight, too, schedule permitting. This is from [u:k42ys6vy]Esquire[/u:k42ys6vy], January 2006, "Who the Hell is Tim McGraw?" "The founding legend of Tim McGraw is one of the great contemporary American stories: He is born in Delhi, Louisiana, on May 1, 1967, and spends his childhood as Timmy Smith, believing Horace Smith to be his biological father. When he's eleven, he finds his birth certificate in a closet. It says his name is Samuel Timothy McGraw. He confronts his mom, Betty, who has recently divorced Horace. She fesses up. Tim's real daddy is Tug McGraw, the famous big-league pitcher--formerly a Met, now a Phillie--who's as famous for his party-guy persona as he is for his screwball. (Tug once told a reporter, "Ninety percent of the money I've earned in baseball I've invested in women, cars, parties, and booze. The other 10 percent I wasted.") Betty contacts Tug and arranges a meeting in Houston, the closest city with a National League team. Tug is friendly to Tim but refuses to acknowledge that he's the boy's father. Tim goes home and changes his name to Tim McGraw anyway. About a year later, another meeting is arranged, also in Houston. But this time, Tug goes out of his way to be an asshole. He lets Tim come down to the dugout but blows off Betty's invitation to see them later. Tim goes home and changes his name back to Tim Smith. More than five years pass, during which Tim sends letters and leaves messages. Tug answers none of the letters; he returns none of the calls. Tim's a teenager now, and he's pissed. In his senior year of high school, he decides he wants to go to college and that, goddammit, his rich father ought to help pay for it. So for the first time ever, Betty asks Tug for money. Tug agrees, on the condition that they sign a contract stipulating that a) neither Tim nor Betty can ever contact him again, and Tim can't ever use the name McGraw. Tim counters, saying he'll accept those terms only if Tug grants him one last meeting. When Tug shows up in Houston with his lawyer, he takes one look at this six-foot-tall, seventeen-year-old kid and realizes, at long last, that Tim is his son. Tug can't do it. He tears up the contract. And the healing begins."