First Ballgame

I think after the major milestones like first words and first steps what I was most looking forward to as a parent was taking Fiona to her first baseball game. Despite her vast experience playing baseball, I still wanted to play it cautious -- I knew we'd have to warm up with something minor league (no way was I throwing down Yankee Stadium prices only to have to leave when she got bored in the 3rd inning). On Friday as we were up in the Berkshires looking for a place to find some fireworks, we discovered that the New England Collegiate Baseball League* had a team in Pittsfield. And so off we trekked to watch some amateur baseball at $6 a pop (free for Fiona).


July 4th: Baseball, Mom, Hot Dogs... all we needed was some apple pie to complete the picture.

*The NECBL is an amateur summer league for college players hoping to catch the eye of pro scouts. It's like the more famous Cape Cod league. If you want to see a movie about the Cape Cod League you can watch Summer Catch with Freddie Prinze, jr. If you want to see a movie that's any good, I would recommend not watching Summer Catch with Freddie Prinze, jr.

Fiona was excited all day to see her first baseball game -- she kept saying things like "I can't wait," which were sure to melt her Daddy's heart. We arrived in the bottom of the first (my normal prohibition on missing the first pitch being suspended since a) we were trying to make sure Fiona stayed interested all the way to the end for fireworks* and b) it was amateur ball), grabbed a seat down the first base line, and instantly got to see some action. The Pittsfield player wearing #14 (we never bought a program, so we just got to know the players by their numbers) rapped out a single. I tried to explain the basics to Fiona:

"#14 is on first base now," I said, pointing to the base. "He wants to get to second and then to third and then home. If he gets home, he scores a run, and the team that scores the most runs wins."

I don't think Fiona processed any of it, but quickly enough #14 moved to 2nd on a walk, took 3rd on a wild pitch (this being amateur ball we saw several of those--plus 4 errors by the home team), and then scored on another single. The crowd cheered and #14 instantly became Fiona's favorite player. The whole rest of the game she kept asking where #14 was.

* Yes, Fiona loves fireworks, ever since she saw them at Disneyland last year. On the drive up to the Berkshires on Thursday the 3rd when she would normally have been sleeping she stayed awake pointing out all the fireworks we could see from the Merritt Parkway. The loud noises don't scare her (usually), not when she can look at all the pretty colors.


Her interest held for the first 5 innings pretty well--very well, given that she's four years old and the first time her aunt went to a ballgame (at the same age) she spent the entire game reading Mr. Brice Has Many Mice (a book Fiona owns as well, although we didn't bring it). Plus she got some of that great food we never serve at home, like hot dogs, fries, soda and Dora ice cream (right). As her interest started to flag, I told her that we were going to sing Take Me Out to the Ballgame soon. Fiona knows that song by heart.

"When?" she asked. It was the top of the 6th.

"It's the sixth inning now," I started, then realized she didn't know what innings were. "Remember how each team tries to score before they make three outs?" I asked.

Fiona nodded.

"So each time they do that, that's their part of the inning. So as soon as the black uniform team," (which is how we were distinguishing the visitors from the green uniforms on Pittsfield) "makes three outs, and then Pittsfield does, and then the black uniforms do it again..."

I gave up. It's only when you start trying to explain the rules of baseball to somebody who doesn't know them that you realize the game actually doesn't make any sense whatsoever.


In the middle of the 7th, we stood up... and discovered that the NECBL, or at least Pittsfield, doesn't do a 7th inning stretch. I started wondering if the game was only going to last 7 innings (some amateur leagues cut it short), but no: apparently, they just don't do a 7th inning stretch. Maybe it's one of those "we don't want to pay the royalties" situations on a song you never think about, like how you'll almost never hear characters on TV sing "Happy Birthday" to each other.

In the bottom of the 7th, Fiona finally go to see a home run, which is one of the few plays she knows. She jumped up and down and clapped as if the most exciting thing in the world had happened.

A few minutes later, Pittsfield finished a 5-run rally to improbably take the lead and the stadium erupted. Andrea explained to Fiona that a really exciting play had just happened and now Pittsfield was winning. Fiona nodded and then pointed to the sky behind centerfield where the sun was setting.

"Look, Mommy, pink!" We all have our own priorities.

We couldn't have gotten through the game without the promise of fireworks (especially not a night game, though I hardly would have taken her to a night game if not for fireworks). And we did get a good show after Pittsfield finished the game off for the win. But Fiona enjoyed herself, and I told her when we get to Florida maybe I'll take her to a big game (hey, this year she's got a better chance of seeing quality baseball in Tampa than in NYC). And, who knows, maybe we will get to follow the further adventures of #14 somewhere down the line.

There's a full album of photos from our trip to the park here (linked in the sidebar as well). Oh, and as always, clicking on the photos in this post should bring up larger versions.