Took Dad to the Yankees-Mariners game yesterday for his 60th birthday. It was the first time he had been to Yankee Stadium. I think the last time we went to a ballgame together was April 6, 1992 for the opening of Camden Yards. Before that, it was Pirates-Mets at Three Rivers in the mid-80s when I was the batboy for the Pirates and there was a bench-clearing brawl.
Baseball games in America are the quintessential father-son activity. Few activites create the type of nostalgia, harkening you back to days of yore like an afternoon at the ballpark. Everyone is a kid again at a baseball game, confirmed by the guy in his mid-60s sitting next to us diligently recording the game in his scorebook. After arriving late in the middle of the 2nd inning, my father, the consummate multi-tasker, shut off his cell phone and began to focus some time in the 4th. "Is Jeter third in the lineup?" When confirmed, he added "We're watching a perfect game so far." Later, when Nick Green was walked in the 6th, he remarked, "they just walked a .157 batter." Needless to say, I was impressed with his baseball astuteness.
In the first few innings, he repeatedly expressed his surprise at the 54,000 out for an afternoon game in the middle of the week - "don't these people work." Leaving the game, however, his mind considerably calmed, he commented, "I forgot how much fun baseball games are....we should do this more often."