Baseball is a special game.....

I pull into the lot in Frisco, the place where the next wave of Ranger hopefulls perform, put the Rav 4 in park, turn off the ignition. 

Getting out of the car I don't head for the cooler of beer which usually resides in the trunk, but the rear-passenger side door where my 10 month old son eagerly awaits me to release him from the prison which is his car seat.

As I pull the little man from his restraints there is an overwhelming sense of nostalgia thumping through my bones, been here, done that, don't really have the specifics, but I do recall.....once upon a time, I was him.

No Mom, no food/nap schedules, no worrying of him sticking his tongue in a power outlet.

This is our first game, this is our time.

We check through the front gate, the looks on the elderly attendant's faces assure me they know where I'm at, I'm diggin' it.

Make our way through the crowd on the walkway, going through all sorts of folks, young, old, native, foreign, people who are happy to be there, people who only worry about where the next plastic pint is coming from........this is game day, this is live baseball.

We find our section, take the stroll downward to our row, have to navigate so we're not getting in the way of those migrating towards the cheap dogs, stale 'chos and overpriced booze.

We make it.

Sit down, 30 minutes before game time.  Soak it in.....this is it.....no way to go back and make this up.

Lil' Charlie soaks it all in, lookin' at me, smirkin' his lil' smirk, I smile knowing he has absolutely no idea what is going on, but it doesn't mean a thing. 

This is our time.

I see little Lemon stretching along the left field line, I see Smoak speaking with someone he'll probably forget in a couple days, but the impact he'll have on that kid will more than likely last 100 fold. 

What a great game, a silent game, a talkin' mans game.

Patience pays.....the lil' figure skater (or gymnast?) sings a gem of a national anthem, Charlie and I wind up on the big screen......gold.

The game starts, I whisper baseball points into his ear as the teams are warming up for the top of the 1st.  I tell him what the pitcher is going to throw during warm ups based on the action of his glove, I tell him when the catcher is going to throw down to 2nd....for a moment, I'm all-knowing.

At one point Craig Gentry smokes a ball down the right field line, the Cards RF misplays it.... Gentry running head down since contact looks up just as he approaches 2nd, he stutters a moment, deciding whether to take 3rd, he does....he's safe by a step or two.....

I whisper into my son's ear, "when you hit first base, you always pick up your third base coach." 

A couple batters later, Gentry scores....As he hits the first step of the RRiders dugout  a coach pulls him aside and points to first, obviously telling Gentry what I had just told my boy....at least in my mind he did.

We only stayed for 5 innings, and to be honest it was 3 more than I figured we'd go (thank you Honey Nut Cheerios).  It was just a great game, a great day, and a great moment in my life.

Sorry I had to get uber-cheesed on y'all, I just had to get this out.  But I felt y'all'd understand more than most...I'm sure everyone can relate....

Oh, and for those 4 kids who sat in front of us....who constantly glared back at us, obviously tiring of Charlie's screams...you'll understand some day.

Y'all be good.