I grew up in a sports loving family. Football, hockey, golf, soccer, gymnastics, basketball, swimming, you name it, it was either played or watched in our household (not played by me, mind you. my love of sports does not translate to any sort of talent). My youngest brother is a walking sports encyclopedia, I learned to love ESPN at a young age, and there's not a competitive bone in my family (note: massive sarcasm inserted here).
Though we have an appreciation for all sports no love for any of them runs deeper than our love for baseball. Baseball takes the cake, every time. My dad grew up playing baseball, both my brothers played baseball, we went to countless games growing up, and once that glorious opening day came every April, the lights of baseball glowed on our tv screen many evenings. We have been faithful fans to our Texas Rangers for years, even after that sickening loss in the World Series a few years ago. In all honesty, I think that loss was partially for my entire family to learn not to hold onto a sport/sports team quite so tightly. ;) Even so, a Rangers fan first I was born and a Rangers fan first I will die. Baseball was a tradition in our home growing up and it remains a tradition in my home now.
People have their complaints about baseball and I get it. Is it a little slow sometimes? Sure. However, that's one of the things I love about it. When you go to a game you get to not only watch the game, but to enjoy your time with the people you're with. The memories I have of afternoons & evenings at the ballpark include walking around the stadium with my family, chatting and laughing together, eating lemon chills and hot dogs, and always keeping an eye out for that home run ball. And now I get to enjoy that with my own little family. My husband did not have a love for baseball when we got married, but he now anticipates the season even more than I do (there was much celebrating in my family when he came to see the light). ;) And he is now faithfully instilling that love into our daughter's heart. We turned on the first ball game of the season a few weeks ago and she said, "oh, it's baseball! YES!" Much parental pride was felt.
All of this talk of baseball to say: times like last night are purely sweet to me. Watching a game with my husband, my little girl, my sis and her bf, eating ballpark food, watching the sun go down behind the stadium, hearing that familiar "play ball!" over the speakers, cheering hard for our team; times spent like this make for memories I'll cherish and memories that my little one will cherish. For years to come, whenever she hears that loud smack of a bat making contact with that red-stitched ball and sending it soaring over the back wall, she will remember nights like last night, pieces of her childhood, and the fun we shared as a family enjoying America's favorite pastime. It's a nostalgic game, there's no doubt about that.
"Who says you can't be romantic about baseball?"