Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Summer Is...

going to a Raptors game because we live in Ogden, UT, and Raptors is Dodgers in our lengua. l'm an LA girl, so the sign that reads "Welcome to Dodgertown" as you walk into the stadium makes me smile.
Photobucket

Photobucket

Photobucket

Photobucket

Photobucket

Photobucket

Photobucket

Photobucket

Photobucket

Note: This clown is waving at ME!!! He saw me acting all sports photographer wannabe and put his hand in the air just for little ol' me. I felt very special. Also, let it be known that I waited all night to get the infamous butt pat photo. Well, maybe it's not infamous, but it's definitely a staple in this sport and my patience was rewarded when I finally got it. Score!
Photobucket

Photobucket

Photobucket

Baseball is special to me. Mostly because it's what my big brother played growing up. My mom would cart us girls around to his practices and games. I detested this because baseball {and football, and basketball, and...you get the idea} was boooooooorrrrrring. I didn't get it and games seemed to last FOOOREEEVAH {Sandlot reference}. The most exciting part of the experience was finding two quarters in my mom's purse so I could buy myself a fun dip at the snack shack. Insane excitement I tell you!

But then one day things changed. Not sure what did it, but the universe shifted and I actually enjoyed going to my brother's games. I used to keep track of stats, cheer him on, and get real proud {the kind where I would beam and my heart would thump a little faster and I'd quietly say to myself "that's my brother"} when he'd make a fab play, or get on base. Good times.

So I love baseball. I love how American it is. I love the history of it. I love the tradition. It bleeds authenticity, has a heart that pumps, and a voice that sings, shouts, and cheers. And best of all, I think of my brother when I watch a game. The same brother who I believed with all my heart would one day make it to the big leagues.

No comments: