Mark had Cooper’s name picked out long before I ever met him. He told me very early in our relationship that if he ever had a boy his name would be Cooper. At the time, I knew someone that had a dog named Cooper so it wasn’t at the top of my favorites list. Then he told me why. Although Mark’s dad wasn’t very involved in his life, the memories that he shared about him were always happy, heartwarming, or hilarious. Mark spoke of attending a Brewer’s game with his dad at the age of 8 when Cecil Cooper came up to bat and the slow and steady roar from the crowd began, “COOOOP, COOOOP, COOOOOOP.” Unable to understand exactly what words were ringing out across County Stadium, Mark asked, “Dad, why are they booing him?” Al responded, “No, son, they’re not booing. That’s his name. That’s COOP.” Mark claims to have picked our firstborn’s name that day. He always said that Cecil Cooper is our son’s namesake, but I like to think that his name comes from a very special memory that Mark shared with his father.