Play Ball

Dear Baseball Scorecard (Today’s Daddy Diary Manual)-

I took my son to his first baseball game over the weekend; the hometown St Louis Cardinals versus the Tampa Bay Rays. I was so excited. Our ace, Adam Wainwright, was pitching, and the Rays are a fun, young team to watch in person.

Then reality hit me in the face like an Albert Pujols line drive. I’m taking my 1-year old to the game. This isn’t like going to the ballpark with my brother or a buddy. Oh, did I mention Cooper is 23 months old, so almost 2? That’s old enough. It’s time for that father-son ritual of our first Major League Baseball game together. I’ve dreamt about this day since he was born.

We arrive at our seats just a few minutes before first pitch. I had the normal goodies that we all bring to a major league game: popcorn, peanuts, gold fish, teddy grahams, 3 diapers, wet wipes, a changing pad, the sippy cup, and of course, Cooper, who was asleep on my shoulder. I love it when my little boy falls asleep on me. It’s wonderful in so many ways. He’s peaceful. His tiny hands grip my shirt. And, well, he allows me to actually watch the game. That part is fun too.

Okay, it’s a sunny 73 degrees, not a cloud in the sky, my team is playing well, I have my little hall of famer with me (who is asleep), so let’s get it on. Play Ball.

First inning: A Cardinal player makes a nice, running, one-handed catch in the outfield. And, the alarm clocks sounds. 44-thousand people decide that it’s time for Cooper to awake. I think every single one of them started chanting “Cooper, wake up…stomp, stomp, stomp…Cooper, wake up” or maybe they were cheering for the nice play. Either way, the blond headed boy opens his eyes, looks around, realizes where we are, and shouts out “Baseball Game.” My boy recognizes where we are right away. My eyes begin to water.

Or maybe, I tear up, because he turned his head so fast, it caught the bridge of my nose which now is throbbing to that same beat of the crowd, stomp…stomp…stomp. See, Cooper doesn’t have a real seat. He’s only 1, so I decided he could sit on my lap for a quick, 4 hour event. It saves me the 30 dollars it would have cost for his ticket. I can still feel the bruise on my thigh, where he bobbed up and down from noon to four pm . It’s a good hurt though.

Second inning begins with Cooper doing the “down dance.” All of us parents know what this means. Toddler doesn’t want to sit, so wiggles more than a Tim Wakefield Knuckleball (fyi: that was a baseball metaphor). We have one big problem. Our seats are in the upper deck. We are so far away from the action that my nose is now bleeding for a reason other than Cooper head butting me in the face. Did I mention the game was sold out? People are everywhere. There is no dance floor for the “down dance.” So, it’s time for some POPCORN.

Orville Redenbacher is a great babysitter. He takes us into Inning Number Four.

“Daddy, I poopied” says the popcorn, ahem, I mean little boy. “Oh crap” says the third baseman as he drops a pop up, ahem, I mean daddy. Here we go. This is what I’ve trained for. I can do this. We make our way to the men’s room. Nope, not that one. There is no changing station. There we go. Found a restroom with that baby icon that says “enter if you dare, daddy may be changing naked child with aroma floating in the air.” Prior to today, the only change that I’d seen at a baseball game was a pitching change. This change was a little tougher on the senses. We entered the restroom in the “Bottom” of the Fourth. We exit the restroom with a clean “Bottom” of Cooper. Task accomplished.

On the way back to our seats, Cooper asks if he can go to a playground. Huh, we’re at a baseball game. A nice usher hears Cooper (who does speak amazingly clear for a 1-year old) and mentions to me there is a playground on the main level. I’m here for the little guy, right? Okay, I give in.

We head to the escalator, and little bambino loves jumping on and off those. We do that for an inning. Cardinals score 4 times in the inning, but hey, who wants to see that? We’re riding escalators. This is much cooler.

Sixth Inning: We finally make our way to the playground. There is a line. Yes, a line at the playground. See, many, many other parents had this same idea to get through the 9-inning game. I felt like I was at a local pub on my college campus. It was one in, one out. We waited the 15 minutes to get in. I take Cooper’s shoes off, and he goes running to the first baseball toy.

“Excuse me sir” says an usher. Your son needs socks. I ask him to clarify. “Your son needs that cotton type of clothing that fits over his feet.” Yah, I know what socks are, but seriously, he needs socks right now. It’s 70 something degrees, so he’s wearing crocks, not socks. “There’s a Cardinal team store around the corner where you can buy some socks.” Humph, okay, we head to the team store and buy ourselves a ten dollar pair of socks. Ten bucks for socks. Let me repeat this. Ten bucks for a pair of socks that won’t fit him until he’s ready for the big leagues. Well, at least they’ll last.

As time passes, the crowd cheers over and over and over again. Wow, I wonder to myself. I wonder what is going on the field that can be more exciting than is happening on this field of toddlers. That game cannot be more intriguing than what I’m watching.

Eighth Inning: I beg Cooper to let us go back to our seats to watch the last two innings. He, mercifully, agrees. He eats Gold Fish, Teddy Grahams, and some peanuts.

That takes us to the Ninth Inning. Tie game after nine. For those of you who don’t know, baseball continues to play until there’s a winner. So, the game heads into extra innings, but Cooper is done. It’s nap time, and I left the blanket in the car. “Daddy, go home, see Mommy and take a nap” says my little man as his eyes fall faster than a good, hard sinker (baseball metaphor).

I give up. We leave. Cardinals, of course, win in the 10 th inning in dramatic fashion, a home run to end the game. I can hear the crowd cheering as we walk to our car. Cooper smiles, lays his head down on my shoulder, and says “night, night Daddy. Thank you.” Yep, tears in my eyes again. That first game with my son is exactly the way that I dreamt it.

(This post was reprinted as it did not automatically make the transition to the new site)