First time at ball park
When I was a kid I used to hate when my dad watched baseball because it was confusing to me and it often interfered with my desire to watch “The Powerpuff Girls.” Now my dad and I watch games together on TV, which is fun, but it wasn’t until last Sunday that I got to watch my first live game and I can say it was a deeply satisfying experience.
I didn’t know I was going until that morning, and when I realized this would be my first professional sporting event I got a little anxious. I didn’t know the ticket purchasing procedure and I didn’t know if there would be any sort of ballgame traditions I’d be left out of given my lack of experience with such things. However, everything went smoothly and soon a group of friends and I were making our way to the field.
It was hard to take in everything. Everyone there was wearing some sort of merchandise. There were Giants and A’s fans mingling, and kids were running around — some of whom seemed to be unattended. Though I had seen overpriced food and long lines before, I still saw every aspect of that part of the day in a positive light.
Before the game even started, I was so busy thinking about where I was and what was about to take place, that I almost missed the performance of the National Anthem. In fact, by the time I snapped out of my daze, we were about a third of the way through the song and everyone around me was standing already. I was embarrassed but, since no one was there to scold me, I sang what remained of the song then waited patiently, but earnestly, for the game to start.
For the first few innings, it was hard to pay attention to the game itself. I was too busy running my fingers through the blades of grass and listening to the chatter around me. I spent an inordinate amount of time staring at the sky and watching my friends trade quips back and forth.
In the middle innings, I watched the game closely. I couldn’t quite see or interpret everything that was happening but I knew enough to know when it was appropriate to cheer and clap.
It wasn’t until the game came close to ending that I actually started paying attention to the score. I realized that the game would be ending soon, as would the best part of the day. I didn’t like that. I didn’t want the feeling of camaraderie with people I didn’t know through the appreciation of this sport to end. I didn’t want to have to say goodbye to my friends, then go home where my primary activity is worrying about all the homework assignments due on Monday, but eventually I did.
Normally, I’d want to take lots of pictures out of fear of forgetting, but I took three. The reason being that I knew I wouldn’t easily forget this first experience or the feelings that came with it. If you have the chance go to a baseball game. Not only will you get to observe what happens in the game but you get to feel a sense of togetherness with people who came out to do the same thing as you: have a good time.
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