I remember the first game I went to like it was yesterday. It was my dad, my grandfather, his friend, and me. Going to your first baseball game is an experience you never forget, especially when it’s Fenway Park. There’s something surreal about seeing the Boston skyline while in the stadium, watching players crack home runs over the Green Monster, and taking in the sights and sounds of the Boston faithful. We got to the game pretty early. I remember walking around the stadium and taking it all in, thinking that it looked so much better in person than on TV. I also remember taking this picture.
If you have never been to a baseball game, let me give you some foreclosure. You don’t go for the overpriced, mediocre food. You don’t go for the overcrowded parking. You certainly don’t go for the lines and the waiting. But enough of that. Here’s why you DO go. You go because you love the game. You go because there is nothing quite like the city on game day. You go because it is another chance to spend time with your dad and your grandfather and other people you care about. You go because it’s an opportunity to get out of school the next day (I can’t 100% guarantee this will work for you). But most importantly, you go for the memories and the sentimental value those memories will hold ten, twenty, thirty years down the road.
If you read any of my other articles, you probably know by now that I like to talk about sports. What you probably don’t know is that baseball was probably the first sport I truly got into. No, not by playing—I was not blessed with the athletic ability to hit a baseball. However, I was lucky enough to have a third grade teacher let us watch Opening Day during the scheduled time we were supposed to be doing our addition and subtraction. (Thank you Mrs. Malloy!)
Baseball is an interesting sport. It doesn’t have the speed or pace of basketball, the physicality of football, or the sights of golf. What it does have though, is tradition. It’s America’s pastime for a reason and is steeped in the history to prove it. It has figures like Jackie Robinson, Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Hank Aaron, Yogi Berra, Ted Williams, and so many others. It has been around since the 19th century, which is a pretty long time! It has the Seventh Inning Stretch and “Take Me Out to the Ballgame”. It has cracker jacks! One thing I love about baseball is that it brings not just generations together, but a wide range of men, women, kids, people that know everything there is to know about baseball, people that don’t know a thing about baseball, people that are there for the snacks, people that are there to socialize, and so many more. The fan base is something I love about the game and it is ever growing.
Baseball does have its faults. Nine innings is a long game, especially depending on different factors like pitching changes, individual player styles, close games etc. When I talk to some people about baseball, they say that they just can’t stand watching baseball because it puts them to sleep. Personally for me, that’s perfect. Same here. It is quite relaxing to fall asleep to it (baseball and golf are in a battle for first). Truth be told, I myself have trouble watching a full nine innings, but that’s okay. It’s pretty fun to periodically check in and see how your team is doing. But definitely don’t let anything stop you from actually going to a game—there’s something for everyone at the diamond.
Picture this: its 9 pm on a Friday night and a cool 70 degrees. The smell of Fenway Franks, pretzels, and history of a century old ballpark waft through your nose as you take in the scene below you. A tie game in the 7th inning with major playoff implications is on the line and you can sense the apprehension in the air. Yet, as the home team runs off the field to prepare to bat for the bottom of the inning, you hear the speakers come on. You know what’s coming: Sweet Caroline of course! The whole stadium erupts in excitement as young and old, home team and away team, singers and non-singers alike all in unison begin singing the words of a song I really don’t know the history of. But you know what, in that moment, the game itself doesn’t even matter. The apprehension is replaced with laughter and cheers. No, everyone does not know your name, but that hardly matters, because for just three minutes everyone is at the ballpark as a nine year old kid again. That’s baseball at its finest. Wow, summer just cannot come fast enough.
