I was recently discussing with a friend what it’s like to go to a Major League Baseball game. It was kind of a reminiscing about days gone by. I’ve got baseball in my blood. My father was a great baseball player in high school. He even was scouted by some Major League teams.
I was telling my mom the other day how I wished they had video technology like we have today. I’d love to see video of my dad playing the game he loves so much.
So, this was how I described going to a game to a friend who had never been to one before…
“I used to go over to Detroit at least once a year, sometimes more, to see a game at old Tiger Stadium (which isn’t there anymore) with my dad and brother. There’s just something about being there. Yes, you see the game more closely on TV, but it’s not the same as being there… the crack of the bat, the sound of the organ music (which has since been replaced), hearing the vendors calling out “popcorn! Peanuts!” And “gotcha cold beer here!!! Cold beer on a hot summer day!”….the smells… Oh, the smell of hot, fresh roasted peanuts…hot dogs, beer stained concrete steps, vendors smoking cigars… But the best thing…. The thing that knocks the breath right out of you, no matter how many games you’ve been to, is that first time you walk from the dark and dingy stadium underbelly out into the sun and see that majestic green grass. It’s the greenest, most perfect green ever.”
P.S. As you can see, I’ve been a huge Yankees fan for a long time, which made for some interesting games in Detroit! 😊