Growing up as daddy’s little girl had its ups and downs. He was my biggest fan on the field. But off the field, he was critical and his criticism was unsolicited most of the time. My mom, on the other hand, was always the cheerleader. She was there to make sure I was happy and having fun on the field, no matter the score.  When I hit the age of 12 and lost my dad to a sudden heart attack, I was left without my fan and critic. I had to take on both roles—picking myself up when I was ...