I got to do one of my favorite things today. Watch baseball. Outside.
There is just something about watching a baseball game on a perfect Spring day that gives me the warm fuzzies. There is no other experience that can top walking into the stadium, smelling the freshly cut grass and the hot grills. Hearing the ball hit hard on the leather palm of the players mitts as they warm up. Something in me just lets go and a wave of nostalgia takes over.
I have to admit that I am a bit of a stadium snob. I am not a big fan of the “new” stadiums. Too shiny. Too sterile. No character. I want the ivy. I want to watch the people watching the game from their rooftops across center field. I don’t want to be hit with commercials, electronic megatrons and flashy light shows. I don’t want to watch pumped up giants run a home run derby every game. I want a good old fashioned baseball game, the way it was meant to be played.
Today I went to a farm league game. The stadium wasn’t fancy, but the smells and sounds were all there. The weather was perfect. The game was close. My husband’s 8th grade band played the National Anthem on the field. I sat next to my kids and shared with them America’s past time.
It was the perfect day.
