7th Inning Stretch

This weekend, my family decided to be spontaneous and drive up to the new Miller Park in Milwaukee Sunday morning for the game that afternoon. The Brewers were hosting our beloved Pirates.

No, the Pirates didn't win, but it was a gorgeous day to nestle into the thick green plastic stadium seating and toss splintered peanut shells on the cluttered cement floor below. Checkerboard patterns in plush green grass, the National Anthem, nuclear families, players' bleached uniforms with socks pulled securely up to the knee. I love how fresh and patriotic it all seems, even just for a little while.

... and I actually like the fact that I have never been to a baseball game in which I was rooting for the home team. Watching my dad stand and cheer over the years, alone and unashamed, for every Pirate success, mild or major, is one of my very favorite parts.

And besides, no matter how much you love the sport, what is visiting a baseball stadium than a people-watching feast -- complete with a curiously intriguing assortment of fans? In addition to watching foul balls bounce towards us along left field, I'm pretty sure I mentally wrote about 30 people's life stories and diagnosed their problems.

Thanks Dad, I love you!