Wednesday, June 04, 2008

Peanuts, Cracker Jacks

The ideas of Josh and baseball are tightly entwined in my mind. His love of the game is so literary and innocent and optimistic and exactly what baseball should mean to men and boys alike. So there's been a countdown almost from conception to Dash's first game.

We didn't have terribly high hopes. It was a night game, and Dash had a birthday party to attend that afternoon. We knew he'd be really tired and probably cranky. But he wasn't. He was happy and curious and totally thrilled to be there. I know it's silly to say that a two-year-old got that he was at his first baseball game and everything that it meant to his father. But I swear to God he did. From the moment we sat down and he saw men taking the field he just knew that something awesome was about to go down.

There was a family one row ahead of us with a mom and her teenage son and his girlfriend. She coo'd a little over Dash and said she could remember her son's first game. That in the blink of an eye he went from a darling toddler to the tall and awkward kid sitting at her side. All I could think was, Yes, and he is still sitting at your side here. After all those years. I hope we are blessed that way, too.

On the way in

Josh & Dash have a game (sorta like Marco Polo) where Josh says, "Vladimir" and Dash responds, "Gew-weh-wo"

Dash's first Cracker Jacks were a hit, but the prize was seriously the worst I've ever seen. A mini-bio of Ben Franklin. No joke.

It was Guerrero Bat and Ball Day


A really good day

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