For the Love of the Game

Just got back from what might be the most magical night any boy has ever had at the ballpark.

Tonight was Cody's long-awaited baseball game with Carly and her dad. By pure good fortune, it was an accidental double-header, with the P-Nats finishing a rain delay game from June before their regularly-scheduled 7:05 start.

We all arrived at the park just after 5:00. The last of the day's storm clouds was just passing through and the ballpark was pretty much deserted:

This had a number of advantages. First, while Carly was daintily eating pizza and Cody was destroying two hotdogs, a girl who works for the team came over and asked if they'd like to go on the field to play a game between innings. Carly's dad and I both hesitated, not wanting to be banned from the park should there be an incident. (I think Carly's dad was worried about her charging the mound. I was worried that Cody might want to show off the Y-front.) But we decided to go for it. We were told to meet at the third base gate at the top of the 6th.

Then we let the kids pick out seats (top row, third base line) and hunkered down to enjoy peanuts and the game. And after a few minutes we realized that with the stadium this empty, we had a good chance at a foul ball.

Maybe 10 minutes later, a ball fouled out of play just out of the park on our side. I ran down and grabbed it for Carly. Two pitches later, the batter fouled another to the same spot. Carly's dad grabbed it for Cody. He and I have gone out whole lives never getting a ball at a game. Carly and Cody got each got one within three innings of their first game together.

Like I said, magical.

After another inning, it was time for the kids to provide entertainment for the crowd:

And then Cody and I got funnel cake for Carly. (Not pictured; believe me, you don't want to see the mess.)

Then we all had frozen yogurt.

Finally, just two innings into the second game, it was time for us to call it a night. It was about 9:30 and both kids were up way past their bedtimes on a school night. We made for the exits together and Cody and Carly made a pact to both sleep with their foul balls under their pillow.

And then it was time for the two best friends to say goodnight.

We may never have a better night at the ballpark. But we'll try.

Endnotes and Digressions: I've tried to make some philosophical distinctions about the nature of competition with Cody. He's very interested in the concepts of winning and losing, but I've explained to him that when it comes to sporting events, we don't so much want the other team to lose as we want the P-Nats to win. We root for our team, I tell him. Not against the other team.

(This is, of course, a noble lie. And eventually the Philadelphia in him will surface. But I want to prolong his innocence for now.)

Yesterday, before the game, he asked me if we ever root for someone else to lose. I explained that, yes, when it's the New York Yankees, we always root for them to lose, no matter who they're playing.

Over hotdogs he anxiously asked Carly and her dad if they rooted for the Yankees. They said they were Mets fans. Relieved, Cody said that that was good, because we should always root for the Yankees to lose. Carly's dad agreed.

But every once in a while, Cody like to try out mildly transgressive behavior. And in the 5th inning last night, as the opposing Myrtle Beach Pelicans were at bat, Cody called out, "Myrtle Beach Pelicans, we are rooting for you to lose!" Then he turned around gleefully and looked to see what my reaction would be.

Because the park was empty, his shout echoed throughout the stadium. I thought I could see the Pelican player in the on deck circle tear up a little.