Sunday we took a leap of faith. Sunday we, my husband and I, took our oldest son Davey to his first ever Major League Baseball game.
The New York Yankees made their way down to the hot South to play the Atlanta Braves. My husband, being the lifelong die hard Yankees fan that he is, was over the moon with excitement from the moment the tickets were given to us, which was approximately three months ago. It’s unusual for him to get the opportunity to watch the Yankees play on t.v., much less see them live and in person, and three rows behind home plate at that!
We live approximately two hours north of Atlanta, so making the trip isn’t much of an effort, but we still worried about Davey and just how he would be with the trip and the actual game itself.
Saturday found my husband already bounding through the house with the anticipation of the following day’s events. Any concerns, worries, or doubts he had in the weeks prior about taking Davey had been completely obliterated. He was going to do something that he’d dreamt about for a while, something he’d envisioned in his head well before we ever had kids. He was going to take his boy to a New York Yankees game.
Of course, my husband seemed to change roles with me as he debated over just what jersey he should wear to the game. It was quite humorous for me to see the roles reversed. Me? While I have my share of Yankees shirts in my effort to show a level of support for my husband, I am a Braves fan at heart. Having been born and raised in SC, the Braves were and pretty much still are the closest MLB team around. I was a fan back in the days of Dale Murphy, even naming one of my Cabbage Kids after the Hall of Famer. So, there wasn’t much to mull over in regards to what I would wear. Although I knew that the Braves wouldn’t win, I still wore my Bravos gear!
I think the fact that we could possibly be seen on national t.v. also encouraged my husband to put much thought into what he would wear. Unfortunately, Davey doesn’t have too much in the way of Braves paraphernalia. He’s a true Yankee through and through, Mariano Rivera having been his favorite Yankee. So, he wore his navy blue Yankees t-shirt and baseball cap. I promised him, though, that he would at least walk away with a foam tomahawk. I had to get in my colors somehow.
When we arrived at the park, the excitement in Davey’s, and my husband’s, eyes was evident. We immediately had to have a family picture made, a house divided and exhilarated at what we were embarking upon. We found our seats, literally three rows behind home plate on the Atlanta Braves side of the plate. The first batter I was able to see up close and personal was Nick Swisher, a former Yankee, who has now become a Braves. As a side note, he’s waaayyyy better looking in person.
We were only able to enjoy our seats for a few moments when Davey made his daddy make good on a promise…a big soft pretzel and a Sprite. Davey had a blast. He sat between my husband and me, chomping down on his pretzel, flinching when a foul ball would head our way only to be stopped by the netting. He clapped when his daddy clapped, but he also clapped when I did, eager to pull for either team and please both parents at once.
We had a spirited day of dancing between each inning, eating hot dogs and popcorn, cheering for teams, and laughing at the mascots running around on the field. Davey had ice cream in hat, a novelty which was the greatest thing in the world to him. He was a mess, but a wonderful mess.
He didn’t ask much about the game and as the 8th inning began to wane, so did Davey’s attention which was fine since the game was practically over. The Yankees had a 20-6 lead. Highly unlikely my Bravos would mount a comeback, but at one point they did threaten. When that happened, Davey found that he enjoyed the chanting and the Tomahawk chop with his hand.
We sang “Take Me Out to the Ball Game”. Davey pumped his fist into the air to “root, root, root for the home team,” and counted on his fingers to, “one, two, three strikes you’re out at the old ball game.” I suppose; however, the most entertaining portion of our day was when my mother in law called to tell us we were on t.v. and to wave. When I told Davey to wave because Grammy sees us, he waved frantically, but also looked all over the ball field for his Grammy, exclaiming, “I don’t see her, mommy. Are you sure she’s there?”
It was truly the greatest day ever for all of us. We were sad that Henry wasn’t with us, but also knew that he wouldn’t last as long as Davey and Davey really needed some one on one time without his little brother. We were very thankful to my parents for keeping him.
What really warmed my heart were the occasions when I caught moments of happiness between father and son. The moments when Davey would smile at his daddy, which took me back to that morning when Davey asked, “Daddy, are you staying with me all day?”
My husband was happier that a blue jay singing in the Spring. He chuckled at Davey eating his ice cream, put him on his shoulders for the 7th inning stretch, explained who the players were and even tried to get Davey to explain the superiority of American League over National League (a debate my husband and I love to have). My husband was fulfilling a dream he’d had before he ever became a dad and to say that made me happy is an understatement.
When we climbed into bed Sunday night, my husband said, “That was the best day ever. I’m so glad we took Davey. I had so much fun.”
As did we all.