Over seven years and thousands of tossed balls, “Play Catch With a Dad” has become a ubiquitous part of Pride celebrations everywhere.

John Piermatteo started the sessions in 2019 in his hometown of York, Pennsylvania, at their Unity Fest, inspired in part by “Free Mom Hugs.” Now Piermatteo is joined by scores of dads — most of them straight like him — at as many Pride events across the country. The latest are Pride Nights at MLB games.

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After a Pride Night at Wrigley Field in Chicago last year, the group was invited to play catch at ten Major League games this June, from New York to San Francisco.

Last week, “Dad” Rabbi Randy Flesher joined “catchling” Clara Dawson on the field at Busch Stadium in St. Louis for a session at the Cardinals Pride Night. After that warm-up, Clara even got to throw out the first pitch.

She might have been good luck; the Cardinals beat the Cincinnati Reds, 10-3.

Clara’s star turn — her name filled the Jumbotron looming over right field as she walked to the mound — followed the same simple game of catch that had Dads and catchlings alike sharing tears on turf at Pride celebrations coast-to-coast.

“You did not adequately prepare me for how many people were going to be crying in my arms,” a new Dad volunteer told Piermatteo at the end of one catch-filled day.

Dan Selzer is another Dad recruited by Piermatteo to play catch, who now coordinates other volunteers in Illinois. He shares one of his favorite catch encounters.

“Last year at Pride, I played catch with a participant who (by my guesstimate) was in his late 20s or early 30s,” Selzer recalls. “Like with all catchlings, we tossed the ball back and forth a few times, and then I offered a Dad hug, and told him I loved him and was proud of him. He became a little weepy, then the hug ended, and he went on his way.”

“Ten to fifteen minutes after this interaction, I was at the front of our tent trying to interest more participants to play. I happened to look back at the Dads to see if we had room at that moment for another catchling, and I noticed my earlier one standing behind the tent and a little off to the side. He caught my eye and motioned me over. When I stepped out, he grabbed me in a huge bear hug and lifted me off the ground.”

“Mind you, I’m 5’5”, and this individual was well over 6’ tall.”

“He told me that no one had ever, in his entire life, told him that they were proud of him. We cried on each other’s shoulders for a minute or two, and then he released me. I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t tearing up just telling you about this experience.”

Piermatteo says that kind of reaction is common, and the interactions between catchling and Dad can have a profound, lasting effect on kids who may have missed out on an affirming father. Last year’s MLB game session is an example. 

“The Chicago Pride Festival in 2025 took place a week after Pride Night at Wrigley Field,” Piermatteo recalls. “Early on that Saturday, a young man was passing by our booth and shouted to his friends, ‘That’s my Dad! That’s the Dad I was telling you about!’ He then ran over and gave me a big hug.”

“What we have learned is that for us Dads, these encounters might last a few minutes, and then we are on to the next kiddo. But for the members of the community that engage us, those few minutes mean so much more.”