Just a reminder, fans, comin’ up is our “Die-hard Night” here at the stadium. Free admission to anyone who was actually alive the last time the Indians won a pennant.
Captain’s Log. Opening Day Chronicles. Game 1. So the Captain had a brilliant idea – I love baseball and would love to pass my passion for the game on to my kids. The problem? My daughter doesn’t like baseball, and unless SImba is gonna throw out the first pitch, my son isn’t going to pay much attention to it. So, like I said, I had a brilliant idea. What if I made Opening Day a party? So I bought hot dogs, Cracker Jacks, peanuts (the shelled kind – you can’t buy the others), and baseball cards.
The Captain was excited. This was going to be fun. I didn’t count last night’s game (Houston versus Texas) as the opener. The Captain is more of a traditionalist, a baseball conservative (no, I was not down with the interleague, but have come to enjoy it. And I do like seeing a DH – an aging slugger who still has some pop in his bat. I guess this makes me a moderate baseball conservative. Oh, but I hate astroturf…). The season should begin with the Cincinnati Reds. Why? Because they were the first baseball team, and that is how every season should begin.
At any rate, I decided to wait until the 1 pm contest between the Yankees of New York versus the Red Sox of Boston. I made the hot dogs first.
“I don’t want that,” declared my daughter.
“Honey, it’s Opening Day. You eat hot dogs at baseball games. We are having a picnic. What would you rather eat?”
“Pita and humus.”
How American. As American as stroganoff (sp?). But, whatever, as long as she is happy that is all that matters.
‘Daddy, can I have a turn with the television?”
Calm.
“Honey, it is Opening Day. We watch baseball.”
“I don’t want that. Can I watch Netflix on the Nook?”
I rock the Diaper Dweller to sleep and put him down for a nap.
At this point I open the Cracker Jacks – thinking this will attract my daughter. They do not. So that leaves me with the baseball cards. My last hope.
“Daddy got you some baseball cards. Would you like to see them?”
“Sure.”
A glimmer of hope.
“Actually, I made some cards. Let’s play with those daddy.”
And so there I sat, as the former Indian, C.C. Sabathia opened Opening Day, playing fake cards with my daughter. It might not have been what I planned, but by spending time with my daughter – I felt like I hit a home run.
Oh, and when my son woke up, he ate the better part of TWO hot dogs. I might have a future partner at the ballpark after all. I’ll just have to give him some time in the minors to get ready.
For now…Captain out.
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