I finally took my son to his first baseball game last weekend. Good old Double-A Minor League Baseball. Hometown Reading Fightin Phils -the Philadelphia Phillies Double-A squad- versus Maine's Portland Sea Dogs -the Boston Red Sox Double-A squad. My whole life the hometown team was simply named 'Reading Phillies' until 2013 the name was altered to 'Reading Fightin Phils'. Back when I heard of this change I remember I was offended, but I really don't care at this point. So since the name has changed I can say my boy and I saw our first Fightin Phils game together. New tradition, same First Energy Stadium.
I felt sort of bad that it took me this long to take him to a game. But he is still very young, he's three and a half, and he is still too little to truly understand the game at this point anyway.
I'm pretty sure that my son saw a game earlier in his life than even I did, so I suppose that is a mini win.
Overall I am incredibly happy that I was able to take him. This was the last weekend the Fightin Phils were going to be at home this season.
Baseball used to be the single most important thing in my life. I lived and breathed baseball. Truly my first love.
I had some talent too. Many childhood summers I traveled all around Pennsylvania on travel teams, competing in games and tournaments against kids my age. Sometimes we even competed out of state. Delaware, Maryland, and New Jersey. My favorite tournament I competed in was located in Cooperstown, New York. We played on some of the nicest fields I've played on at Cooperstown Dreams Park. Cooperstown is Home of the National Baseball Hall of Fame. Such an honor to even play in the village where all the greats will forever be enshrined.
With all my personal history surrounding baseball it was a very emotional day for me to take my son to his first game. Somewhere out there I believe my father is smiling. He was a ball player himself. I very much wish my father and I could have seen a game together. That would have been amazing. I know my Papou is also happy, thankfully he is still around. He's the one that taught me all about the game one summer in '03.
Going to this game helped me connect with a part of myself I forgot about totally. I have a lot of regret and some bad memories regarding this time period in my childhood- ancient history I will not write about tonight. I stopped following baseball for a number of years. I was sad for many years.
Seeing this game with my son gave me a lot of perspective. Made me happy and sad all over again.
I think maybe its time to start loving baseball again.
Great times.
His first ice cream in a helmet!
