No1's lambasting the Yankees' new stadium and the SF-Philly playoff game I'm watching now are getting me all nostalgic about my first baseball game. I thought it might be fun if we'd tell the stories of our first games (of whatever sport).
My first game was a beautiful July Sunday afternoon in 1985 when I was 8 years old. My father offered to take all 5 of us (parents, self, 2 siblings) to the Yankee game out of the blue. Over my sister's objection that she wanted to go to the town pool instead, my brother and I won out and we piled into the old silver Pontiac, and off we went.
My first thoughts as we filed into our upper upper deck grandstand seats was how close the pitcher's mound looked to home plate and, although I was already a baseball fan from before, I never knew that the outfield was circular until I saw it live.
It was the Yankees against the Milwaukee Brewers (they were in the AL in those days). Before we left, I had run to my meager baseball card collection and collected all the Yankees and Brewers (5 of each, IIRC) and lined them up against each other.
My dad bought us all sodas although with plenty of grumbling that $1.25 was absurdly high for cup of soda (how things have changed!) and even though we were not allowed to have soda except for special occasions.
At one point during the game I remember thinking that worse luck- the Yankees kept hitting the ball so far, but those three accursed guys out there on the grass kept catching the ball. If not for those three guys, I surmised, the Yankees would have a lot more runs.
My hero, Don Mattingly, smacked a home run into the right-center field bleachers but, alas, the Yanks lost the game, 7-5. Though I was disappointed by the loss, I swore that when I grew up I was going to come for every game.
I attended many games after that and many were truly great games, unlike that one. I also, of course, in subsequent years, was able to have a much keener understanding of what was happening. But there will never be a more memorable ot greater baseball game than that sunny July Sunday in my mind.
Anyone else have a similar tale?
(And please, if it's "I was 37 and a client took me," save it