As far back as I can remember, I was brought up on the gospel of baseball. As a matter of fact, that was the only sport I was aware of for the longest time. My father grew up playing the sport and I think may have even had pipe dreams of just playing in the minors. It was not to be; and as a result he'd spend a majority of my childhood teaching me about the art of the game.
I have some of the best memories of going to minor league ballgames. I was born in Jacksonville and we lived there until I was 3. We went to countless Jacksonville Sun games before we moved to Tampa. When we got to Tampa, we'd go to spring training games and to see the minor league Tampa Yankees. (Side note- the Devil Rays did not come to town until I was almost done with college. And we won't even TALK ABOUT when Miami got the expansion team over Tampa before that. There's still bad blood about that deal.) So, majority of my baseball watching was minor league or lots and lots of televised games.
By the way, if you have never been to a minor league baseball game, what are you waiting for? It's cheap both to get in and to eat, there are always ridiculous forms of entertainment that grown men are whipped up to try simply to win a $25 gift card to Chili's, and lord knows they're always giving stuff away "to the first 5,000 fans"!
I'm sure by now you've figured out that today's summer adventure was a baseball game. And where did I wind up going?
Need another hint?
That's it. That's all you get. Now, I was not really a Braves fan until college. My father was a huge St. Louis Cardinals fan. I have no idea why, since he was born and raised in Florida. But, my freshman year of college was when the Braves won the World Series. I happened to actually BE in downtown Atlanta the night they won. It was absolute insanity. And they've held a special place in my heart ever since. Those Braves of the 90's were the REAL Braves. The Jones boys. The best pitching lineup ever. EVER. And let's not even get into our hitting and Javy behind the plate. Did I mention the greatest baseball commercial ever made was also during this time? Here it is, for those of you who forgot about it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ltD21rYWVw
I digress. Off a whole herd of us went to Turner Field to watch the Bravos take on the Rangers. This was our view:
Yes, we were in the nosebleeds. But who cared? We were in the stadium. It was an early afternoon game, meaning that we would be having lunch at the ballpark. Now, in my group, we managed to knock out hot dogs, popcorn, a soft pretzel, peanuts, a frozen lemonade, and multiple Coke products in an incredibly short span of time. There would be pictures of said delicious ballpark food, but we were so hungry, we all but unhinged our jaws and swallowed it all whole.
As the game continued, the big names got up to bat:
No Chipper today. Oh well. As the game wore on, we also had the awesome between innings entertainment of the shell game on the giant score board, the Braves fan crew throwing t-shirts into the crowd, and of course, my favorite, the ridiculous foot race between people dressed in nonsensical costumes. Today's sponsor was Home Depot:
Why yes, those are grown men dressed in giant foam tool costumes running for their lives. LOVE IT.
Of course, my biggest victory came in the 7th inning stretch. Not because I necessarily love singing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame"; but because I was getting one of these:
Unless your ice cream comes in a souvenir batting helmet, DON'T EVEN TALK TO ME!!! I cannot even tell you how many of these things I had as a kid. Let's just say that all my dolls could have taken batting practice at any given point and they all would have been safe.
As the game (and the heat) wore on, there really weren't that many exciting moments. No pitching duels. No one went yard. But, as I sat there, I remembered how great it was to be at the ballpark as a kid. Listening to the cheesy organ music. Singing along to the oldies they played over the PA system. Eating my treats in my seat. Just hoping that someone would knock one over the fence so you'd have a reason to get up and yell. (Oh, there was one more thing that made me feel like a kid. The biggest man on earth was sitting right in front of me. I'm not kidding. Look:
Look at the size of that man's head!!!!!
The long and short of it is that baseball for me will always represent my childhood. I played catch in the front yard. I had my own glove. At the ripe old age of 6, I visited the Louisville Slugger plant in Kentucky, for Pete's sake.
Plain and simple, I love the sport and all the cliches that go along with it. Give me an old man sitting by himself keeping score old school style in his program any day of the week and twice on Sunday. Nothing sounds like that ball coming off that bat. A diving catch in the outfield to end an inning??? Forget about it!!! I love college football. Any of you that have met me for even 5 minutes know that. But, baseball is the 7-year-old Dawn. Sitting on the couch with wet hair after my nighttime bath because I'm allowed to stay up a little late to watch the first half of a game. It's also the mini baseball bats and ponchos and commemorative game balls and tissue thin free t-shirts and all the other doo-dads that were given away "to the first 5000 fans" of all the minor league games I went to that I hung onto as long as I could.
I guess I can sum up this entry pretty easily. Of course, there's always someone who can say it better than me. You're welcome.
(PS- Braves won. 4-2. Good afternoon.)
Lovely entry. And I'm dying over the big foam tools in the outfield. Too fantastic.
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