Finding your dad on Twitter used to mean that you were his only follower and had a lot of hashtag explaining to do. But for Gabby Schilling, daughter of retired Red Sox pitcher Curt Schilling, it means don't mess with her.
After posting a celebratory tweet about his daughter's college acceptance, haters fired back with comments described as degrading and sexually explicit — the kind of tweets trolls send out assuming Schilling is a Twitter-inept father. Boy were they wrong. Schilling showed everyone what dadding-out on social media is all about when he tracked down two of the offenders, getting one of them fired and the other suspended from community college.
While some have called Schilling's reaction extreme, many daddy's girls like myself can recall similar experiences. Lucky for me, my experience was before social media and, obviously, on a much smaller scale. Unlucky for me, it was a time before my body grew into my oversized head. They called me "Big Head," among other things, but that one hurt the most because it was so accurate.
My dad would tell me to ignore them or make jokes about my brain being larger. However, his cool demeanor evaporated one day when I came home devastated. A boy on the bus had drawn my face on a garbage bag, blown it up and ran around pretending to be me.
I remember the face on his giant cranium (I got my head size from him). If Schilling's blog post were an expression, my dad was wearing it. He did what any father would do, he instinctually went after the person who made his girl cry. Not because I couldn't handle it or wouldn't learn something from it, but because he had to.
Schilling's reaction isn't a matter of right or wrong, it's just what dad's do. For me, my bully couldn't get fired or suspended from being a kid on the bus. Yet, seeing my irate dad put a powerful fear in that kid and he never messed with me again.
I've been called Big Head thousands of times since then, but after this incident, it never touched the same kind of nerve. Like Gabby, I know there's someone biologically predisposed to having my back in a war, so petty battles don't hurt me as much. No matter how horrible the comments were, Gabby Schilling is one lucky girl. If you want to hate on me for saying that, you can take it up with my dad, but he's more of a Facebook kind of guy.