Who’s the daddiest TV dad of all time?

Eric Taylor (Kyle Chandler) is technically only the father of Julie (Aimee Teegarden) and, as of a wonderful, scene in the season-two premiere, Gracie Bell. But he’s also, really, the dad to all of the football players on the Panthers—and later, the Lions—not to mention…kind of the whole town. (Seriously, at one point in this , he and his wife Tami [Connie Britton] basically become Dillon’s go-to problem-solving duo.) He’s able to put your ass in gear when he sees you slacking off, pick you up when you’re at your lowest, and, of course, inspire the hell out of you with a rousing speech. Plus, just look at this guy. That’s some real-deal, no-nonsense big-dad energy right there. [Tim Lowery]

premiered back in 2003, which means it’s been more thant 20 full years since we were introduced to bad boy with a heart of gold Ryan Atwood (Ben McKenzie), textbook hipster nightmare Seth Cohen (Adam Brody), and most importantly, the daddiest dad ever to dad, Sandy Cohen (Peter Gallagher). Listen, there are lots of great dads on this list, but I feel like Sandy clinched the title the moment he took one look at Ryan’s sad little Chino-born puppy eyes, brought him to his giant mansion, and essentially adopted him. In addition to convincing his wife Kirsten to let Ryan live with them, Sandy also spends his days being kind and supportive while also making sure Seth doesn’t become too much of a spoiled brat, like those other Newport rich kids. Plus, the native New Yorker introduces his family to the wonder and sacredness of a good ol’ fashioned bagel (which is especially important to me, a fellow native New Yorker). And okay, if we’re talking about “daddy” in its hunkiest, dreamiest, and just a little R-rated definition? Well, just check out those brows, that smile—and Peter Gallagher in his post-The O.C. roles in and Grace & Frankie. He’s still got it. [Shanicka Anderson]

Tony Soprano isn’t just daddy. He’s The God-Daddy. Played by late legend James Gandolfini, ’ main antihero anchored HBO’s series as a man of multitudes. From and to and , Tony—whatever the fuck happened to him?—was an endlessly fascinating character who always played the patriarch on his terms. Sure, he nailed the roles you’d expect a TV mobster to nail: Jealous Dad, Angry Dad, Scrambling-To-Bury-A-Body Dad, and so on. But Tony really earned the title of Daddiest Dad during less expected moments—be it talking to his son A.J. (Rober Iler) about panic attacks, teaching his fuckup nephew Christopher (Michael Imperioli) about responsibility, or reflecting on the cycle of abuse he unpacked in therapy with Dr. Melfi (Lorraine Bracco). Not to mention, Tony’s tumultuous relationship with daughter Meadow (Jamie-Lynn Sigler) became one of the better father-daughter arcs ever written. [Alison Foreman]

Freaking d’oh! is the daddiest dad in television in the sense that he’s the most similar to my own father. For the most part, he’s well-meaning—even with his tendency for stubbornness and selfishness. He’s imperfect, quick to anger, and only there for his kids like 50 percent of the time. Like my dad, Homer loves beer, football, and hanging out at the bar with his buddies. Furthermore, he’s dopey, childlike, and would miss the birth of his daughter if it meant he could play a couple of rounds of disc golf. (Wait, now who are we talking about? Don’t worry, I’m in therapy.) There’s a reason Homer was the model father in animated television for so long, as he showcases little facets of what makes dads wonderful and what makes them less than adequate to guide children through life. And you still love him despite his faults. [Gabrielle Sanchez]

We first meet the Weir family at the dinner table. (I should note here, though, because I can’t help myself: ’ pilot has an absolutely insane batting average, with arguably the best opening and inarguably the best closing of any first episode ever. But I digress.) In the matter of a minute or two, Mr. Weir (, sensational throughout, as is his onscreen better half, Becky Ann Baker) fires off two pearls of wisdom at his daughter Lindsay (Linda Cardellini): “You know? I had a friend that used to smoke. You know what he’s doing now? He’s dead. You think smoking makes you look cool? Let’s go dig him up and see how cool he looks.” And then, moments later: “You know, there was a girl in our school. She had premarital sex. You know what she did on graduation day? Died. Of an overdose. Heroin.” Just try not laughing at those deliveries. Perfection. But over the course of the one-season-and-done series, Harold Weir becomes more than just a stern, lame dad and butt of jokes (even with his thoughts on the Sex Pistols spitting on their audience). There’s a genuine sweetness and warmth bubbling underneath that disapproving, out-of-touch, ’80s-midwestern-father veneer, whether he’s taking a real shine to Nick, Lindsay’s ex (Jason Segel), when he needs it or surprising his son Sam (John Francis Daley) with that Atari he was after. [Tim Lowery]

The question “Who’s your daddy?” has only one acceptable answer, and that’s (Enrico Colantoni). Much as Veronica (Kristen Bell) may cringe at the designation, few have done as much to earn the title as Keith. He saved his daughter from a burning building, tampered with evidence (and subsequently threw his own Sheriff’s election) to protect her, and taught her everything he knew about being a private investigator. Of course, the latter didn’t help towards his goal of raising a normal, well-adjusted teenage girl, but it did strengthen their father-daughter bond. Keith may not strictly fit the internet’s definition of “daddy” (though don’t count out Colantoni’s appeal), but he’s an unquestionably great father. Over the years, we saw his flawed, human side, but he always went above and beyond to put his kid first. [Mary Kate Carr]

Phil Dunphy (Ty Burrell) contains multitudes. The “peerenting” champ loves magic and lame dad jokes, but he’s also fiercely loyal and caring. He’s one of ’s most surprisingly grounded characters in a crisis, often helping stabilize those around him (from helping Haley out whenever she’s in trouble to bonding with Luke and aiding Gloria in her real-estate career). Phil’s niceness is so steadfast that it feels almost unreal even for a fictional TV figure. Is he the daddiest TV dad? I don’t know, but he is the most wholesome, and maybe that’s all we really need. [Saloni Gajjar]

Randall Pearson has tough competition in the quintessential TV dad race even among his fellow family members: His adopted father (Milo Ventimiglia) and biological father (Ron Cephas Jones) are warm paternal presences and key to the enjoyment of the network family drama. But it’s Randall—dignified but not without neuroses, buttoned-up yet heart-on-his sleeve, and most of all, always ready with a dumb dad joke—who out-dadded them all through six tear-soaked seasons. You could always look to Randall for the most realistic portrayal of the many ups and well-intentioned downs that constitute fatherhood.Key to this dad’s dadness is the man playing him. Sterling K. Brown is one of those actors who listens to scene partners with seemingly every fiber of his being, and nowhere is that more apparent than when he’s opposite his kid co-stars (Eris Baker, Faithe Herman, and ). He can somehow deliver a wedding toast about wanting a remote control to stop time and make it sound endearing rather than cheesy (even, dare I say, sexy?). Brown manages to check the boxes for both dad and—let’s face it—daddy. [Jack Smart]

No one’s a bigger daddy than Matthew Rhys in . Sorry, I don’t make the rules. Heck, he didn’t even want to be a dad; he just wanted to spy for the Soviet Union. In the process, Philip Jennings was born. And this man isn’t just spectacularly hot. He’s also tortured by his daughter wanting to follow in her parents’ footsteps. Philip doesn’t want Paige to dedicate her life to undercover operations and wig changes (can you blame him?), but he does give her impromptu sparring lessons. Why? Because he’s a smart and good dad—so good that he even yells at Paige in one of the show’s more memorable scenes, “You respect Jesus but not us?” (Don’t worry, Philip, I respect you.) [Saloni Gajjar]

TV dads are loving yet confused. They have difficulty hearing the youth but genuinely want to support and teach them. They are frustrating and endearing in equal measure. These fathers aren’t necessarily biological; they can be mentors, teachers, or directors. FBI Director Gordon Cole, played by co-creator David Lynch, isn’t just one of the country’s top lawmen; he’s also a near-constant source of love and support for Special Agent Dale Cooper. Director Cole, like many fathers, drinks too much coffee and can’t hear a word you’re saying. He also loves Mount Rushmore and its “.” (If there’s a daddier vacation than Mount Rushmore, I haven’t heard of it.) [Matt Schimkowitz]